Where Roads Converge
by FluffyLiz
Summary: A homeless boy, hitch-hiking in the snow, a woman on her own, running from an abusive relationship. Is she crazy to stop, or are their paths destined to cross? Can this mismatched pair find succour and salvation together, or will their pasts intrude and drive them apart? AH, rated M
1. Escape

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters; no copyright infringement intended.**

**Huge thanks to my wonderful beta, Mauigirl60, and to my brilliant 'PR' woman, Cared.**

**Visuals for this story can be found on my story blog at www dot fluffyliz dot com or in my Facebook group - link on my profile.**

**At the start of this story, Edward is 19 and Bella is 29.**

**WARNING: This first chapter contains two brief scenes of domestic violence and alludes to - but does not graphically describe - an act of non-consensual sex. I apologise in advance if this is something which some readers may find upsetting or difficult to read.**

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**Chapter 1 ~ Escape**

The front door of the well-appointed town house in London's trendy Docklands flew open, sucking huge gouts of frigid air into the hallway as a woman emerged, bundled in thick outdoor clothing and carrying a large and heavy-looking holdall. Despite her obvious haste, she navigated the steps to ground level with practiced caution, walking round to the back of a glossy black Land Rover Sport parked at the kerbside. Opening up the back of the car, she awkwardly manhandled the big bag into the rear compartment and then went quickly back inside the house. Mere moments later, she returned with a larger suitcase and a smaller but still sizeable holdall, all of which she packed into the back of the vehicle. One more trip indoors and she emerged for the final time, carrying what appeared to be a document storage box, an artist's portfolio case, a laptop bag looped across her body and a voluminous shoulder bag dangling from her wrist.

Leaning the portfolio against the balustrade, she pulled the door quietly closed, and hitched her leg up to balance the obviously heavy box on her thigh, her foot braced against the door. Her breath crystallised in the icy November night as she slung the strap of her bag over her head so that it was secured comfortably across her body, cross-wise to her computer case. Once she was satisfied neither would impede her, she hefted the box up, picked up the portfolio and turned to go down the steps for the last time.

She stowed the rest of her possessions in the back of the car, before unlooping her shoulder bag and laptop bag. She dumped the latter on the back seat and opened the driver's door. Throwing her handbag haphazardly onto the passenger seat, she climbed in, closed the door and positioned herself behind the wheel. She shivered as her body adjusted to the relative warmth inside the car and undid the fur-lined parka she was wearing, dipping her shoulders to remove the coat and then slinging it behind her onto the back seat.

Knowing her car keys were somewhere inside her bag, she merely reached over to press the start button, listening as the powerful engine roared to life, grateful for the warm air which almost immediately started to circulate around the interior.

The woman pulled her seatbelt across her body and secured it; then, without so much as a backward glance at the house she had so recently vacated, peeled away from the kerb, speeding off down the narrow road. As she glanced in the rear-view mirror, she couldn't help but notice the purple bruise which had spread across her cheek, or the swelling around her eye, which she could only pray wouldn't worsen to such an extent as to impair her vision.

The hour was late, the roads were, for London, relatively empty, and she made good progress across town towards the M4 motorway.

Back at the million pound residence she had left behind, her boyfriend lay on one of the living room couches, snoring loudly in his near comatose state.

**~o0o~**

Powering up the slip road at Chiswick, Isabella Swan merged the big car quickly into the almost empty inside lane of the westbound dual-carriageway of the motorway. Despite her need to put as much distance between herself and her now ex-boyfriend as quickly as possible, she was mindful of the forty mile per hour speed limit on the flyover, knowing that she would soon enough hit the three-lane clearway and be able to accelerate to eighty. The last thing she wanted right now was to be stopped by the traffic police, who regularly cruised this urban section of the main east-west artery which dissected the country.

She frowned as a light but constant freezing sleet coated the windscreen, and was thankful that, at this time of night, there would be few heavy lorries to throw up a blinding spray. She could feel a throbbing ache in her cheek and knew that it would get worse if she didn't take some pain killers, sooner rather than later. Glancing at the dashboard display, she also realised she would need to fill up the tank in order to get her clear across country. Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, she indicated left and pulled into the first motorway services at Heston.

Fortunately, the car park was almost empty and she was able to drive into a parking spot right outside the main building, slipping quickly inside and heading straight towards the shop to buy headache pills and a bottle of water.

On exiting the shop, she decided that, rather than going straight back out to refuel her car, it might be a good idea to refuel herself, so she went to get a cup of coffee and something sugary to eat. Craving a respite to calm and focus herself, she opted to sit in the café, which she figured would also give the pain medication time to start working, and allow her to get her head together before the long night-drive.

At the counter, she ordered a large skinny latte and a blueberry muffin, and went to sit down at the far side of the café. She broke out a couple of tablets and swallowed them with some of the water, then sat back and sipped her coffee, picking at her muffin as she stared blankly out across the sparsely-populated seating area.

During the preceding hour, after she had fought Jake off and he had passed out on the sofa, she hadn't let herself think much beyond packing up as much of her stuff as she could and formulating her plan to escape the pointless, abusive relationship she'd allowed herself to slip into. It wasn't the first time he'd hit her, but she was determined that it would be the last. She knew from experience that once he passed out, nothing short of a bomb going off would wake him for at least two or three hours, and she wanted to be a long way from Canary Wharf when that happened.

She thought about the house in the Cotswolds which her maternal grandmother had left her almost a year ago, and the fact that she had never told Jake about it. At the time, she had rationalised her decision by telling herself there was no need for him to know, as she would probably just sell it without ever even going to see it. In her heart of hearts, however, she had known that she was already thinking in terms of a bolt-hole, some kind of escape plan which would at least give her a roof over her head when she left him. Keeping it a secret was just insurance against… well, suffice it to say, she was pretty sure she didn't want him to find her once she'd left him.

Of course, in those early days, she was still able to convince herself that he loved her and that he was genuinely sorry when he hit her. She told herself that his possessive and irrational jealousy was his way of showing her how much he cared for her. And she forced herself to believe that his need to control her every move was just him wanting to keep her safe.

She had long since disabused herself of those foolish and naïve notions.

When she first met Jake, he was this charismatic, sophisticated and sexy older man and she had been an impoverished art school graduate working her arse off as a waitress at a busy Italian restaurant franchise in the City, London's financial hub, where Jake was a regular. He had charmed his way into her heart and her bed and, after a lifelong struggle against penury, she had let herself be wooed by his good looks and his bank balance. For the first time in her life, Bella found herself being taken to swanky restaurants and meeting people from a completely different social strata.

She had been raised by loving parents who worked hard, but who had little spare money for luxuries. Brought up on a rural council estate*, she had attended her local primary school*, followed by the equally local comprehensive school*. But she was bright and artistic, and her teachers had encouraged her throughout her school days.

At the age of seven, her postman father had been knocked off his bike whilst delivering mail on a dark, winter's morning, and eighteen months later, her mother, who never really recovered from the loss of her beloved husband, succumbed to ovarian cancer, leaving Bella to be taken in by her father's sister and her husband. Her Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Peter were good, caring people, but they had their own problems, with Peter having been out of work for many years because of rheumatoid arthritis, so money remained tight.

University seemed like a pipedream to Bella as she entered her final year at school, but her art teacher, Mr Banner, pushed her to apply to art school. He had worked a minor miracle to get her a partial scholarship, which went a long way to covering a lot of her costs, although she'd had to remain living at home, still having to work two jobs to make ends meet.

Nevertheless, for all her hard work, there was no job at the end of it, despite what seemed like hundreds of application letters posted to every kind of graphic design, media and PR company. So, life continued to be a struggle, living at home with her aging relatives, having little social life, because she seemed to work all the hours God sent, with seemingly little money to show for it, and no job in her chosen field anywhere on the horizon. As she hurtled towards thirty, she felt like her life was already over.

And then she met Jacob Black, who had ooh'd and ahh'd over her portfolio, introducing her to a literary agent with a client who wrote children's books and was looking for someone to produce drawings for her stories. A meeting was arranged and Bella immediately hit it off with the author—indeed, it seemed to be a match made in heaven. Angela Weber had already had some success with her first book, but was not altogether happy with the visualisations of her fantasy world and characters produced by another artist. However, with her initial success came a new autonomy, which allowed her to find an alternative, and, as she discussed her ideas with Bella, she was amazed and delighted when Bella sketched out in a few minutes what she'd been unable to communicate in two months to her current illustrator.

Needless to say, she hired Bella on the spot and the illustrations she produced were widely credited with quadrupling the readership of Angela's second book.

That had been two years ago, and it had been shortly after that book's publication that Jake had persuaded Bella to move in with him. Flushed with success and endlessly grateful to him for facilitating her first break, she agreed, and, at first, it had been really good.

From that first commission from Angela, others had materialised, and Bella Swan artwork had become much in demand. The new financial independence she experienced had then kick-started a second string to her talented bow. Freed from working long hours, not only did she have time for her various illustrating commissions, she was also able to pursue her other love—writing. Angela's agent had put her in touch with another agent who specialised in Bella's chosen genre, and a year later her first book hit the shelves of all the major retailers, to considerable critical acclaim.

And that's when the shit really started to hit the fan. Oh, it had been building for a while, with Jake gradually changing from being somewhat patronisingly supportive of her initial success as an illustrator, to being overtly antagonistic, as she worked on her book in between art projects. As the money rolled in and she started getting really complimentary and positive feedback from her editor, Jake became more and more paranoid and jealous. One night, after an extended meeting with her agent and her editor, she had come home to a furious Jake, who had accused her of having an affair with one or both of them, his anger only feeding off her incredulous denials. The fact that her agent was a woman and her editor was an overweight, balding man in his fifties seemed to be irrelevant.

That had been the first time he hit her, knocking her to the floor in the kitchen, where she banged her head on the oven, denting the enamel with the force of the impact. She had been rendered semi-unconscious by the blow to her face and to her head, and had, at first, been confused as to what had happened.

Then Jake was on his knees, pulling her into his arms and begging her forgiveness, whilst at the same time, seeming to blame her for driving him to violence.

That night, he had taken her to bed and, despite her injury and her pleas that she really wasn't up to it, had fucked her hard, like a man determined to leave his mark, even as he begged her over and over not to leave him.

Following that night, things had got a little better for a while, although Bella found herself walking on eggshells with Jake, constantly worrying that something might set him off. But, for the most part, he seemed to have gained control over his temper and his jealousy.

Everything changed when Bella's book was published.

All of a sudden, she was in demand for interviews, book signings, meetings with rival publishers and agents looking to secure TV or film rights. On top of that, the spotlight had now also fallen on her art, which was being hailed as more than just book illustrations, and galleries were requesting original works for an exhibition.

Bella was caught up in a whirl, and Jake grew exponentially more and more hostile as her star ascended.

Tonight, they had reached their nadir.

Earlier in the evening, they had both attended a literary cocktail party, hosted by Bella's publishers. She had been on tenterhooks all day, worrying that Jake would do or say something at the party to humiliate her—or worse. But he seemed in good spirits, chatting amiably with those who came to pay homage, and smiling affably at her agent and editor. He seemed to keep his drinking under control and Bella felt herself relaxing, starting to enjoy the evening. Unfortunately, Jake's bonhomie was merely a façade, and his apparent temperance just an act, as he was sneaking many more additional drinks to those he consumed in her presence.

By the time they got home, Bella was feeling good, and was taken completely by surprise when Jake turned on her without provocation. He cornered her in the bedroom, ripping her beautiful dress from her body and hurling her across the room. When she tried to get up, he grabbed her by the hair and threw her, face down, onto the bed.

What followed was, without doubt, the worst thing that had ever happened to her, and it was only when he loosened his hold on her in order to flip her over, that she managed to lurch across the bed and grab a lamp from the bedside table. Swinging it round, she hit him on the temple, causing him to fall back against the headboard.

Quickly, she took advantage and ran from the room. But Jake, who had only been momentarily stunned, was hot on her heels, cornering her in the living room and punching her in the face. When she fell, he kicked her in the ribs, the action making him wobble on his unsteady legs and drop unceremoniously down onto the sofa, where he simply passed out—Bella assumed that the blow to his head, combined with all the alcohol he'd had, hastened the process. She didn't know if he was concussed, and thus in danger of actually dying if he remained unconscious, but right at that moment, she really didn't care.

Every part of her seemed to hurt and it was as much as she could do to haul herself back upstairs to the bedroom, at which point she knew she couldn't do anything until she'd had a hot shower and washed the stench of Jake from her body. Before leaving the bathroom, she grabbed a clean, soft facecloth from the towel cabinet, held it under the cold tap until it was wet through, and then fashioned it into a pad, with which she covered her eye and cheek for a few minutes.

Her ribs hurt like the devil, as did her face, but she didn't think anything was broken. Using a surgical, self-adhesive bandage that she had bought for a previous such occasion, she taped herself up and dressed in warm clothes. She then set about gathering everything of any importance to her, filling a suitcase and a couple of holdalls, which she manhandled, with some difficulty, downstairs and into the lobby. She then collected up all her artwork and stashed it in her portfolio, adding that to the pile of bags.

Depositing everything by the front door, she went to the double garage below the house, and drove her pride and joy onto the road, parking out front. It was the first big thing she'd bought with the money she'd earned from her illustrations and the book advance, and she was doubly pleased with it because she had defied Jake to buy it—he had insisted she didn't need a car, that he could drive her where she needed to go or she could get cabs. But she had stuck to her guns and bought the behemoth of a vehicle. Not for her, the cachet of expensive and impractical sports cars—no, she had set her heart on the Land Rover Sport, and she loved its size and how safe it made her feel.

And now, she loved how it had got her away from that house. She had no doubt that Jake was capable of putting her in hospital—if not worse—and she had every intention of getting as far from him as possible.

So, here she was, sitting in a motorway service station at one o'clock in the morning, with a sore body, a nicely developing black eye and what felt like all her worldly possessions packed into the back of her car, heading for a house which she wasn't even sure she'd be able to heat.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, wincing when her fingers drifted over the swelling under her eye and across her cheek. Taking another mouthful of the rapidly cooling coffee, she glanced up for a moment as a young man entered her peripheral vision. He seemed to be going from occupied table to occupied table, speaking briefly to whoever was sitting there.

Despite her pain and underlying tiredness, Bella's interest was immediately piqued, as she watched the boy speak softly to each person, then meekly accept their obvious rejection with a polite nod and a 'thank you' before moving on to the next one. There were slim pickings at this time of night, and he was quickly running out of options. She found herself fascinated by the mini soap opera playing out before her, knowing she needed to move before he got to her, but seemingly incapable of doing anything but wait for the inevitable.

From where she sat, Bella couldn't see his face, but she noted that he was tall and slim—perhaps a little too thin—but with broad shoulders and long, dark hair, streaked with fading blue and magenta, falling to his shoulder blades. He wore tight, rather grubby Levis which adhered to him, emphasising his long, long legs. Paired with the jeans, he wore a black, long-sleeved thermal shirt, and gripped in his left hand was what looked like a short, biker-style, black leather jacket. He had a large duffel bag slung over one shoulder, but, despite the plummeting temperature outside, appeared to possess no cold weather clothing or a proper coat. Finishing off his outfit, he wore a pair of very shabby-looking black Nikes, which looked like they would be as effective at keeping his feet warm and dry as a pair of flip-flops. She hoped he had a car parked outside, but suspected he was actually trawling for a lift.

Bella took in all this just before he finally turned to survey the opportunities on her side of the café. As he did so, her pupils dilated and her nostrils flared in a primal response over which she had absolutely no control.

Despite the slightly greasy, multi-coloured hair, the multiple silver rings piercing one ear from top to bottom, the small, dark-stoned stud in his nose and the oddly contrasting, dark copper stubble which blurred the line of what she instinctively knew was a sharply chiselled jaw, the only thought which sprang immediately to mind was, _so beautiful, but so very sad._

She knew that, no matter how long she lived, the face of this striking young man would haunt her dreams, both waking and sleeping. Too thin as he was, there was something positively Byronic about him… a kind of consumptive feverishness in his glittering jade eyes and pale, pale skin which, nevertheless, held two spots of livid colour across his high, sculpted cheekbones.

His wide, limpid eyes swept across her own face, focussing, in stages, on her full, slightly parted lips, on the purple and red swelling across her cheek and nose, and then, finally, on her striking brown eyes. His gaze was intense, and Bella found herself incapable of looking away. As he zeroed in on her injury, his expression morphed into a frown and then, rather shockingly, turned into a look of such complete and utter defeat, that she had to tear her eyes from his face or weep for him. Even as she dropped her gaze, she saw him move, and when she looked back up, he had turned and was walking away towards the exit.

Bella watched as he pulled on his jacket and fastened it, before hitching his duffel bag higher on his shoulder and pushing through the double doors into the freezing night air. Before he disappeared from her view, she saw him light a cigarette, cupping long fingers around the flame of his lighter, and exhale a cloud of smoke into the crystalline air… and then he was gone.

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*** Clarifications: **

Council estate – local government public housing  
Primary school – elementary school  
Comprehensive school – high school


	2. Samaritan

**Chapter 2 ~ Samaritan**

Bella finished off her tepid coffee and forced herself not to think about the green-eyed boy trudging out into the frigid night in his wholly inadequate clothing. She had enough troubles of her own and she was sure someone else would offer him a lift. She had just run away from one abusive situation; she surely didn't want to put herself in even worse danger by offering a lift to some itinerant, possibly psychotic, Goth boy.

With her mind made up, she gathered her things and made her way to the bathroom, wincing at the sharp pain in her stiffening ribcage. Emerging from a cubicle, she washed her hands and then took a minute to examine the damage which Jake had wrought upon her face. The swelling across her cheek and around her eye was now clearly visible, highlighted as it was by the deep, purple bruising which had spread across almost half her face like a port-wine birthmark. The one saving grace was that, although her eyelid was a little puffy, the eye itself hadn't closed up. Despite the fact that she looked like she was squinting, she still seemed to have full vision. As long as it didn't swell any further, she would be okay to drive, which was the main thing. With this in mind, she delved into the pocket of the bag she'd brought in with her and pulled out the facecloth she had used earlier. It was drying out, so she wet it again under the cold tap and held it against her face for a few minutes, hoping to stop the swelling from getting any worse.

Sighing, she knew she needed to get back on the road before the freezing sleet—which she'd driven through from East London—turned to snow, as she made her way across the rural countryside.

Emerging from the warmth of the building, she was shocked at how much colder it had become in the relatively short time she'd been inside. She was grateful for her warm, fleece-lined boots and fur-lined coat, which she pulled around her as she ran for her car. Climbing quickly inside, she started the engine and cranked up the heat. Selecting her Jazz 'n' Blues playlist, she put the car in gear and drove towards the exit and petrol station, where she shivered in the cold, despite her warm, hooded coat, and then hurried inside to pay. Finally getting back into the car, she was on her way, heading towards the exit and the slip road back onto the motorway.

The sleety rain was definitely starting to turn to snow, as the wipers rhythmically swept the whitening, icy water from her windscreen. She kept her speed down to a steady thirty as she drove up the ramp towards the main carriageway and turned the wipers from intermittent to constant. As she did, something caught her eye, and she instinctively took her foot off the accelerator, her head whipping round to make sense of what she'd seen.

It was the boy.

He was stamping his feet, one trembling hand lifting a cigarette to his mouth, the other held out in the age-old gesture of the hitchhiker. His head was bowed, but as she slowed, he looked up and even through her rear-view mirror she could see him shaking.

Her first impulse was to stop, and her foot tapped the brake, causing her back lights to flair red in the darkness. She immediately castigated herself for being a fool and put her foot back on the accelerator. As she glanced once more in the mirror, she saw the boy's head drop, his shoulders slump, and the arm that had been held out wrap tightly around himself, as he tossed the spent cigarette to the side. In those seconds, which took her further towards the end of the slip road and the point of no return, she realised that he might well die on this road tonight. The temperature was dropping alarmingly as the wind picked up and the snow continued to fall. With barely a car in sight, and none seeming to be coming out of the service station, he could well succumb to hypothermia within minutes, let alone hours.

_It's not my problem… _

Telling herself she was insane, she again hit the brakes and stopped the car, barely yards from where she would be forced to join the inside lane of the motorway. She looked in the mirror, but he was just standing there, head down, shivering violently, and it occurred to her that she might already be too late. Quickly looking all around her, she put the car in reverse and carefully started backing up, all the while keeping her eyes glued to her nearside wing mirror, where she could see the young man almost literally frozen to the spot.

She stopped just in front of him and leaned over to push the passenger door open, shivering as the icy air immediately slithered inside the car and chased the warmth away. Turning to look through the back window, she saw him, finally, lift his head and gaze at the car, seemingly bemused to see it there in front of him. Shaking her head, Bella climbed out of the car, and ran round the back. She couldn't help being taken aback by just how cold it was, and wondered how he had survived out here for the last half an hour or more since he'd left the café.

"Just get in the damned car before we both freeze to death… and before I change my bloody mind!" she yelled.

And, at last, he seemed to be galvanised into action. He looked at her for a moment, surprise clearly written all over his pale, gaunt face, but then obviously decided he couldn't afford to look a gift horse in the mouth as he moved himself towards the open door.

At the same time, Bella opened the tailgate and grabbed a large, thick blanket which was folded up in the corner. She then ran round to the driver's side and opened the back door, pulling her coat from the seat, before slamming the door and climbing quickly into the car and settling herself behind the wheel.

The first thing that occurred to her was how stupid she was to let a hitchhiker sit alone inside her car with the engine running.

This thought was totally overridden by the sight of said hitchhiker curled up in the passenger seat, his teeth clattering loudly as his body was wracked with uncontrollable and violent spasms—clearly, he would have been incapable of doing anything, let alone getting behind the wheel and driving away.

Without further hesitation, Bella turned up the heating to maximum and opened the vents.

"Hey, kid… hey, can you hear me?" she asked. She put her hand on his arm and was appalled to find that his leather jacket was waterlogged and freezing. Lowering her hand to his leg, which shook and jerked like he was suffering from St Vitus' Dance, she soon realised that all his clothes were soaked through and that if he was going to survive he needed to get out of them.

"Kid… shit, what's your name? You need to change out of these clothes. Do you understand me?"

"M-m-m-my n-n-name iiiis Eh-eh-eh-Edward," he whispered, his teeth chattering so hard he could barely get the words out.

"Edward… okay, good. Have you got anything dry you can change into… in your bag?"

Bella felt like she was talking to someone who was disabled in some way, and, to all intents and purposes, she supposed he was. Getting no reaction to her question, she put her hand on his arm again, the feel of the drenched leather making her cringe.

"Edward? Where's your bag? Have you got any dry clothes?" She shook him slightly, but then reasoned that it was a pointless gesture, as he was still shivering so much anyway.

However, it seemed that she was finally getting through to him—the warmth of the car starting to raise his body temperature, she supposed.

"N-n-nothin' c-c-clean," he managed to say.

Bella seriously doubted that the clothes he had on were particularly clean, judging by the musty scent he was giving off, so she didn't really want to give too much thought to what his dirty clothes might be like. Nevertheless, he needed to change, and quickly.

"It doesn't matter if it's clean, Edward, but you have to get this jacket off, plus your jeans and socks and shoes, otherwise you're going to get hypothermia. Do you think you can climb into the back seat and get changed? I promise I won't look!"

She smiled at him, and was rewarded with a small, crooked but tremulous smile which made her breath catch. In the glow cast by the dashboard and the motorway lights, she could see up close what she'd noted back at the café—that he was an extraordinarily beautiful young man; however, his unhealthy pallor and haunted eyes tugged at her heartstrings.

"I-I-I g-g-guess," he finally said, in response to her question.

"Come on, then. The sooner you get out of those wet clothes, the sooner you'll start warming up."

With difficulty, he uncurled his body, trying to relax his cold, unresponsive muscles, and grabbed the bag which he'd set down on the floor between his legs. Turning, he pushed it between the front seats into the back and then awkwardly manoeuvred his long, gangly frame through the gap and onto the back seat.

Bella turned around to give him some privacy as he slid behind her seat and started undressing, pulling off his shoes and socks. His teeth continued to clatter alarmingly, and progress was slow, but at least he seemed to be getting there.

"S-s-sorry ab-b-out the smell," he muttered, and Bella automatically looked up to catch a glimpse of his face in the rear-view mirror, full of shame and embarrassment.

"Forget it, it's fine," she told him, looking away so that he didn't see her witness his discomfort.

He continued to struggle in the back, but she could tell that, divested of his wet clothing, he was already starting to warm up, and a few minutes later he was climbing back between the seats to settle himself back in the front. As he sat down, Bella held out the blanket and her coat.

"Here, wrap the blanket around yourself and put the coat over your legs."

He looked at her for a moment and then took the proffered articles. Leaning forward, he pulled the blanket behind his back and wrapped it around his body, and then draped the three-quarter length parka over his knees so that it covered his legs and feet.

"Okay? How are you feeling?" Bella asked, noting that, although he was still shivering, it was far less violently than before.

"Yeah, I'm ok-kay, thank you," he replied, his voice soft.

"Good. Let's get going then, before this snow gets any worse."

She put the car in gear and accelerated quickly up the ramp, pulling easily onto the almost empty motorway. As she did, it occurred to her that not a single vehicle had passed them in all the time she had been stopped on the slip road, which, by her reckoning, had been some fifteen or twenty minutes. She couldn't help but wonder if this clearly undernourished young man would have survived even a few minutes longer, let alone twenty. She frowned at the thought, but was prevented from dwelling on it further when the man in question spoke beside her.

"Why did you change your mind?" He spoke quietly, but in the silence of the car, his voice rang clear.

"Change my mind?" Bella flicked a glance at him before returning her attention to the road.

"You slowed and then started to drive away. What made you decide to stop?" There was no recrimination in his voice, merely curiosity.

"Um, I don't know. I guess you just looked so cold, and I thought… well, there didn't seem to be much chance that anyone else would pick you up."

"But you're a woman on her own. Most _men_ wouldn't pick up someone like me, let alone a woman. That's why I didn't ask you back at the services… well, that and the fact that you look like you've already been on the business end of some guy's fist."

Bella couldn't help but feel a little irritated at his assertion.

"If you're trying to tell me that I'm stupid for picking you up, I already know that," she snapped.

He sighed and transferred his gaze from the road in front of them to her bruised profile. It didn't escape him that she had effectively ignored his comment about her face. "I don't think you're stupid. I think… I think you're the kindest person I've ever met, and I'm pretty sure you just saved my life."

His voice dropped to a whisper, and she glanced round to see him return his gaze to the road ahead. She didn't miss the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his hand coming up from under the blanket to rub his eye.

She transferred her attention back to the road, noting with some concern that the sleet had now definitely turned to snow, which was starting to come down quite hard. At the moment, there was just enough traffic to keep it from settling on the six-lane highway, but if it got heavier, it might well become a problem. She couldn't help but be thankful that she was in a 4x4 rather than a rear or front-wheel drive vehicle.

To take their minds off the heavy subject matter of moments earlier, and distract herself from worrying about the weather, she racked her brain for something else to talk to Edward about.

"So, where are you heading?"

At first, he didn't respond, and she glanced over at him to see if he'd fallen asleep, only to find his soulful green eyes regarding her intently.

"Edward? Where do you want me to drop you off?"

He shook his head and looked out the window. "Anywhere. Bristol, I guess… if you're going that way."

"Bristol? Um, no, I'm not actually. Have you got a place to stay tonight? I'm going to transfer onto the M5 and head up towards Cirencester tonight, so I need to know that if I drop you off, you have somewhere to stay. It's going to be after three o'clock in the morning, so will someone be there to let you in?"

"Uh, well, I was heading for a friend's place in Bristol…"

Bella sighed. "Okay, well I obviously can't just turf you out at the interchange, but I guess I could take you into Bristol and then come back. It's not that far out of my way, as long as the snow doesn't get any worse. I can't believe this weather in November. Whereabouts does your friend live?"

Again, he didn't respond, and Bella was starting to get worried.

"You do have an address, don't you?"

"Uh, well, not exactly. I just thought I'd give him a call when I get there…"

"Seriously? If you aren't sure where you're going, why didn't you stay in London until the weather improved? Or at least stayed at the services until you could get a lift all the way to Bristol? Why on earth did you leave it so late?"

Edward sat up straight from the slouched position he had adopted, pulling Bella's parka off his legs and tossing it onto the back seat behind him.

"Look, I thought I did have time, all right? But I've been stuck at those poxy services all fucking day trying to get a lift and Security were trying to throw me out, like I was some kind of filthy fucking tramp or something. They were watching me, and I was making one last punt to see if I could get a ride. Okay?"

He was angry, which made her feel bad. "Surely they can't turn you out if you're using the facilities?"

"What, you mean buying food and drink? Yeah, I managed to make two cups of overpriced coffee and a sandwich last most of the day before I had to knock that on the head," he grumbled.

"Jesus, Edward, really? That was all the money you had?"

His voice dropped, obviously embarrassed. Bella understood being hard up, but she didn't think she'd ever been so poor she couldn't afford to feed herself.

"Yeah, well, it was over ten quid for the coffee and sandwich, which only leaves me with about another fifteen quid, which I thought I'd need, and I didn't wanna spend it all on fucking shit in a service station… sorry, I… excuse my language."

Bella shook her head. "I don't care about that, Edward. I just… I mean, how the hell did you think you would manage with so little money? Why would you leave home and head off to some nebulous friend's home, with no plan or the wherewithal to find a place to stay?"

"Fuck you, okay! You've got no fucking idea what it's like to be poor, to have nothing. People like you swan about in your fancy fucking cars, living in million pound fucking houses—who the hell are you to look down on me…"

His voice broke and he covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking, although not from the cold this time.

Bella reached her left hand out and put it on his shoulder, but he jerked away from her.

"Edward, I'm sorry, really I am. I shouldn't have been so judgemental. It's only because I'm worried about you. I can't possibly just drop you off somewhere, with no money and nowhere to go in this weather. You'll freeze to death—literally. And having gone to so much trouble to keep you alive, that would seriously piss me off!"

She tried to lighten the moment with a small joke, reaching out again with her hand and rubbing his arm gently. This time he didn't pull away.

He dropped his hands, but still didn't look at her.

"Sorry, you've been really kind to me… more than kind. I didn't mean to… I'm sorry…"

"It's okay." She put her hand back on the steering wheel.

After a few minutes of silence, she reached over for her iPod and turned it on, flooding the car with soft jazz. She turned down the volume a little and glanced over at her companion.

"I do know what it's like, you know… to be poor."

In her peripheral vision, she saw him turn his head towards her, but he didn't speak.

"My mum and dad never had two pennies to rub together, and when they died I had to go and live with my aunt and uncle, who had even less money. I managed to get a scholarship to art school, but I had to live at home and work two jobs just to survive, and for the last eight years I've worked as a waitress and a barmaid because there were no jobs when I graduated. So I do know what it's like to live hand to mouth and wonder if there'll be enough money to pay the gas bill in the winter."

She could feel his stare, and wondered why she felt compelled to tell this stranger about her life.

"So, what? You won the lottery or something?"

She chuckled at his question. "In a manner of speaking. I met a guy, who introduced me to someone, who introduced me to someone else, who liked my work. She was a published children's author and commissioned me to illustrate her stories. I got paid enough to be able to give up waitressing and bar work, and then I wrote a book, which got published."

"You wrote a book?" His voice was full of awe. "Like a proper book that people buy?"

She laughed. "Yeah, a proper book that quite a lot of people bought, as it turned out."

"What's it called? Would I have heard of it?"

"I don't know. I suppose it depends if you read a lot of books."

"Hmm, is it chick-lit? I don't read that shit."

Bella laughed again. "Well, maybe. It was a kind of a ghost story cum love story—'The Dark House' by I M Swan."

"Fuck, _you're_ I M Swan? I thought you were a man!"

"Ha, well that's the idea. Apparently, men don't like reading books by women, so publishers often suggest they use male pennames or their initials. So, does that mean you've read it—I thought you didn't read that shit?"

"Uh, no, but I've seen it in bookshops and it was featured on 'The Late Review' show. The critics really liked it."

She glanced over at him, a surprised look on her face.

"You watch 'The Late Review' show?"

He scowled indignantly. "Yeah, why would you find that so surprising?"

"No, you're right, that was really condescending… sorry."

"Yeah, well, I just caught it on the telly when I was round someone's house, you know?"

Bella nodded, and they were quiet for a while.

"So, what does the I M stand for?"

Bella wondered, just for a second, if she had already given too much away, but then she decided it didn't matter—she had already told him who she was, and it was only reasonable, having given her his name, that she should reciprocate.

"Isabella Marie… but my friends call me Bella."

"Izz-a-belllla." He drew the name out, rolling it around, and smiled. "It's a beautiful name, either way you say it. Suits you… um, is it okay if I call you Bella?"

"Yeah, it's fine," she told him, a little nonplussed at how much she liked hearing him say her name.

They drove on, sticking to the middle lane of the almost empty motorway, as the increasingly heavy snowfall began to settle in thick drifts on either side.

"So, Edward, we need to talk about what's going to happen."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for a start, I'm going to have to revise my offer to make a detour—this snow is just getting worse and worse, so Bristol's out. But there's no way I'm going to leave you to fend for yourself, because clearly you won't make it. I could give you some cash and drop you off in Cirencester, but I don't have more than about twenty pounds on me, and even if I stop at a cash point and get some more, you may well struggle to find somewhere to stay at this time of night. Only the big hotels will have 24-hour reception service and they will want a credit card to guarantee the room—especially with someone who looks like you. Sorry, no offense, but you don't look like… well, you know what I mean."

She looked at him and he just shrugged, knowing she was right.

"I don't want to take your money, anyway. You've already done enough for me. I'm not a ponce."

Bella sighed. "I don't think you're a ponce, Edward, but we've already established that, right at this moment, that's not going to work in any case."

"Look, I'm sorry, you don't have to worry about me. I don't want to be any bother. If you could let me out when we get to a decent town, I'm sure I can find somewhere. Maybe you could let me keep the blanket. If you give me your address, I could send you the money for it when I've managed to sort myself out."

Bella was silent for a moment, thinking hard. If stopping to pick up a stranger was crazy, then what she was about to say next was pure madness. But what else could she do? There was no way he was going to survive if she left him at the side of the road tonight—a blanket would be next to useless in the current conditions, and she couldn't bear the thought of abandoning him to the elements. He would surely die, and she refused to have that on her conscience. Which left only one option.

"I'm sorry, Edward, that's just not going to happen. There's only one thing that makes sense, and that's for me to take you to my place. You can clean yourself up, get a good night's sleep-"

"Wait, wait, hang on a minute—take me to your place? Are you insane? You can't be serious!" He had turned bodily in his seat to stare at her, an incredulous expression on his face.

"A simple thank you would suffice, you know!"

"Bella, you're crazy. I can't come home with you. Do you have no sense of self-preservation at all?"

"Why, are you a psychopath?"

"For all you know, I could be."

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you're not a psychopath. Now, have you any other objections?"

"Bella, I… Jesus!" He ran his fingers through his long hair, clearly frustrated.

"Look, like I say, it's just for one night. A warm bed, a good night's sleep, something hot to eat. We can do some laundry. Then tomorrow, we can see about getting you into Bristol to find your friend."

He shook his head in disbelief, but underlying it was a spark of hope, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. "I don't know what to say. Are you sure, Bella?"

"Of course. There now, it's all settled. All we have to worry about is that this snow doesn't delay us too long."

If she was honest, she had no idea why she trusted the young stranger, but she did. Maybe he was right… maybe she was crazy. But something told her this wasn't a mistake.

She smiled at him and then looked back to the road, letting the big car take them… home.


	3. Home

**Chapter 3 ~ Home**

Bella steered the Land Rover carefully along the narrow, unlit country road, thankful yet again for the way the off-roader clung to the slippery surface, the big tyres biting deeply into the soft snow. To her left, Edward's head lolled in sleep as she guided the car up and down the winding and switchback highway that cut through the Cotswold Hills and towards her destination.

The snowfall had eased somewhat, although it hadn't yet stopped, laying across the landscape like a vast white eiderdown. The wind was starting to get up, and Bella could already see the effects of drifting, where the snow piled up against the dry stone walls and farm buildings, and she gave silent thanks that they were nearly there. Indeed, as that thought flittered through her mind, she saw the sign for Chipping Mallard, and she instinctively pressed a little harder on the accelerator in order to get to the cottage. The weather had seriously delayed their progress since coming off the motorway, which meant that it was now nearly 3.00AM and she was exhausted.

She drove through the tiny, sleeping village and out the other end, before slowing to go over a narrow humpbacked bridge spanning a small, snowed up tributary of the River Severn. On the other side, she made a sharp left turn, being extra careful not to let the car fishtail in the hazardous conditions—she was too close to home to risk turning them over now—and then slowed again a few hundred yards down the road.

Before her was a pair of white-painted gates, spanning an opening in the stone wall which separated the property from the road. Beyond it was a short driveway leading up to a long, low thatched cottage, which was blanketed in snow.

Bella stopped the car and reached behind her seat to grab her parka from where Edward had tossed it earlier. From under her seat she retrieved her bag, delving inside and pulling out a set of keys. She glanced over at Edward, but saw he was still asleep, and imagined he must be even more tired than she. Pulling the coat around her, she slipped her arms awkwardly into the sleeves, then quietly opened the door and stepped down into the deep, crisp snow. Immediately, she cringed as the cold seeped into her feet, even through her snuggly Ugg boots. Not wanting to let the cold air into the car or wake Edward just yet, she pushed the door gently to without closing it, and plodded the short distance to the gates. There was a sturdy new padlock securing them and she immediately selected a key on the ring and unlocked it, pulling it free and pushing the gates open. It was hard work, as she had to sweep a large amount of snow back, but she finally made a wide enough opening to allow her to drive through.

Minutes later, she was parked in front of the dark house, the gates were closed and she was standing in the stone porch, unlocking the front door. Pushing it open, she was immediately assailed by cold, dank, somewhat musty air, and she cringed a little at the thought of how they would warm the place up enough to be able to sleep—and how long it would take.

She glanced back at the car, where Edward still slept. She had left the engine running to keep the interior warm, as she didn't want Edward's temperature to drop again. Hopefully, the sound of the idling motor wouldn't disturb her neighbours, as she wanted to keep it going until she had at least turned on the electricity and fired up the boiler. She had arranged for the utility bills to be transferred to her name and for the power to be turned back on once probate on her grandmother's estate had been settled, so as long as the pipes hadn't frozen, she was optimistic that she could get some heat generated reasonably quickly—although it was likely the place had been empty and cold for so long it would take a while for the heat to chase the dampness from the walls.

Bella had come prepared, and delved into her bag for a torch*. Switching it on, she directed the beam inside the house and made her way tentatively inside. She couldn't help shivering, not just from the cold, but from the way the darkness seemed to swallow her up as she ventured further indoors. The glow of her torch did little to dispel the feeling, and she quickened her steps in order to get the place lit and heated as soon as possible.

She had only been here a couple of times before, the first time, very briefly, when she had first been informed of her inheritance, the news of which had been a considerable shock. She had returned a month or so later to take further stock of what she had been left by her estranged grandmother, and had been surprised and delighted with the property. True, it was a little shabby and in need of some work, but nothing more than decorative, as the house itself was solid and well-maintained. The thatched roof had been a worry, but she had been assured that it had recently been fully refurbished and would certainly keep the weather out for another twenty years at least before it needed attention. During the intervening months, under the management and supervision of a local estate agent,* she had arranged for builders and decorators to come in and smarten the place up a bit, including a new kitchen and bathrooms. She hoped they'd done a good job.

Stepping into the kitchen, Bella found that she easily recalled the layout and crossed the tiled floor unerringly, the torch's beam picking out the pine door which she knew led to the basement. Wasting no time, she threw it open and headed down the wooden stairs into the bowels of the house. Here the air was even colder and staler and she was keen to do what she'd come for and get out of there. With this in mind, she swept the beam across the back wall until it fell upon the fuse box, and moments later, having flipped the switch, she was able to flood the basement with light.

Sighing with relief, she trotted back up the stairs and into the kitchen. By the light from the basement, she quickly located and flicked the switches to illuminate the cosy area, dominated by pine and terracotta. It looked like her money had been well-spent.

Mentally crossing her fingers, she went over to the cupboard where she knew the boiler was housed and pulled it open. It was a very simple and modern appliance, and, saying one last prayer, she pulled open the flap which hid the controls, turned the dial to its winter setting and activated the timer. For a heart-stopping nanosecond she thought nothing was going to happen, and then she heard the soft 'wumph' as the pilot light ignited and the heating system kicked in.

Bella couldn't help doing a little happy dance where she stood, although when her face split into a grin, she winced at the pain in her cheek and eye, which she'd almost forgotten about.

But she couldn't think about that now. Turning up the thermostat, she made her way round the ground floor, putting her hand to the radiators to check if they were heating up. A couple clearly needed bleeding, but she could already feel the warmth starting to seep into the space and decided it was something that could wait until tomorrow. Hopefully, the upstairs rads were also working, but she decided she needed to go get Edward before she ventured up to the bedrooms.

Heading back outside, she saw that the car was still idling away, the heat from the engine and exhaust melting a clear space around it.

Carefully, she opened the passenger door and put her hand on Edward's arm, shaking him gently.

"Edward, wake up," she urged him quietly. He immediately jerked away from her, his head whipping around, eyes like saucers and full of fear, making her pull back.

"Sorry, sorry. I… we're here, Edward." Bella was taken aback by Edward's reaction, but decided he had probably just been having a bad dream.

His eyes seemed to refocus as he took in his surroundings, and then he started climbing out of the car.

"Hang on, you need to put your shoes on," Bella told him, opening the back passenger door and reaching inside to gather his things and handing them to him.

He gave her a sheepish look and took the shoes from her, slipping them on his bare feet and getting out.

"Jesus fuck, it's cold," he exclaimed, making her chuckle.

"Well spotted. Come on, I've got the electricity and the heating on, so let's grab our stuff and get inside. You better keep that blanket wrapped round you until it warms up in there. Can you give me a hand with my stuff?"

They got all the bags out of the car and, between them, managed to carry it all in without having to make a second trip. Bella turned the engine off and locked the car, hurrying in behind Edward and shutting the door against the icy wind. It had stopped snowing, but the breeze had picked up and was now blowing hard, causing the loose snow to drift against every static barrier.

They dumped everything in the hallway, and Bella led the way into the sitting room, where she went straight over to the huge fireplace. The grate was empty and cleaned out, but there was a large pile of logs on one side of the hearth, together with a copper container full of kindling and a massive box of matches.

Bella had last visited the house back in late May, when she had first consulted her estate agent in order to get a survey done and have the place valued, in case she wanted to sell. At the time, the agent had recommended hiring a gardener and having the chimneys swept, advice she was now extremely grateful to have followed, and she immediately set about laying a fire and lighting it. As the flames licked around the dry kindling, she carefully placed a small log into the middle. Despite the initial dampness of the air, the logs were dry and quick to burn, and within a very short time she was able to add several more. Twenty minutes after she and Edward had brought all her bags in, a roaring fire was heating the room and chasing the last, lingering tentacles of cold and damp from the lower floor of the house.

Edward sat in a high-backed, winged chair set to one side of the giant stone hearth, looking on in amazement and awe. He had the blanket wrapped tightly around himself, his hands thrust into his armpits for warmth.

Bella turned away from the fire, her face flushed with heat, and caught him looking at her in much the same way as she imagined a cavemen would have watched a comrade first make fire, and she giggled at his expression.

He looked up at her, his mouth agape. "Fuck me, that's… you're… fuck _me!_"

Bella laughed and then immediately hissed with pain. Instantly, Edward was on his feet and standing in front of her, his hand coming up tentatively, as if to touch her face, and then dropping away. Startled, Bella looked up into his unfeasibly green eyes, noticing for the first time how tall he was, as he towered over her. Jake had been a similar height, but unlike when he had loomed over her, she didn't feel in the least bit intimidated or frightened.

In fact, thin as he was, all she could think about was that she had never laid eyes on a more stunning man. He robbed her of words, of her very breath.

"Christ, Bella, somebody really laid into you. What the fuck happened?" It was beyond Edward's understanding that anyone could hit any woman, let alone one so kind, so beautiful, so… perfect.

Bella shook her head to clear it of the thoughts which swirled around it, dropping her eyes to the floor and stepping back. "It's fine… I'm fine." She turned and walked away, and a moment later he followed her as she exited the room and headed upstairs.

The first door opened into a large guest room, with a double bed and fitted wardrobes, together with a dresser, chair and two small bedside tables. It was already beginning to warm up, as the radiator seemed to be working perfectly. She turned to Edward and smiled.

"Will this do you? It's not en-suite, but the family bathroom is right opposite," she said, heading across the passage and opening the door to show him the spacious bathroom, containing a large, claw-foot bath, basin, toilet and shower cubicle.

"There should be bed linen in the airing cupboard. It's probably a bit musty after all this time, but it'll be clean, and will be starting to air out." She went to the next door on that side of the passage, which opened to reveal a hot water tank with shelves above and stacks of neatly folded sheets, duvet covers and towels. She grabbed a couple of towels and held them to her nose.

"Hmm, they're not too bad, actually. Here…" She held one out to him, which he took and then gathered up enough linen to make up two beds.

Half an hour later she had made up his bed, plus the one in the master bedroom at the end of the passage. Bella was gratified to discover that both beds had electric under-blankets, and she turned them on as soon as the beds were made. With that done, they both headed back downstairs.

The sitting room was now toasty warm, and Bella was tempted to plop down on the sofa and stay in front of the fire, but it was past four o'clock in the morning and she was desperate for sleep. However, she could feel hunger gnawing at her and knew she would have to eat first.

In the kitchen, Edward sat at the table while she checked the cupboards, finding a few cans, some powdered milk, and various condiments. On checking through the tinned food, she discovered some vegetable soup, and, even though it was horrendously late, she felt her stomach start to rumble and knew that Edward, too, must be starving.

"Fancy some soup?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Oh God, yes, please!" he groaned, too hungry to politely refuse.

Bella smiled at him, grabbing two tins and quickly pouring the contents into a saucepan. Ten minutes later they were both sat in front of the fire, their hands cupped around large ceramic bowls as they greedily spooned too-hot soup into their mouths.

When they'd finished, Bella took the bowls and put them in the sink; she would wash them tomorrow. Returning to the sitting room, she could see Edward's eyes drooping in the warmth from the fire, and knew she needed to chase him up to bed before he fell asleep.

"Hey, come on, don't fall asleep there. Get yourself up to bed."

"Hmmm? Yeah, okay." He stood up and turned to go up, but then noticed she wasn't following him. "Hey, what about you."

"I'm just going to bank the fire and put the guard up. With a bit of luck, it'll stay lit well into the morning and keep the whole house warm. These cottages are great in the winter once the heat gets into the walls and stays there. Go on, I'll be going up in a minute." She smiled reassuringly at him, waiting until he obeyed and started to leave. As he reached the door, he turned back to look at her, and called her name. Turning, she gave him a quizzical smile.

"Are you okay? Is there something you need?" she asked.

"Just to say… well, thanks. I don't quite know how I'll ever repay you, but I'm incredibly grateful to you, Bella." He spoke softly, his voice intense and imbued with sincerity.

She smiled at him. "You're truly welcome, Edward. Now go get some sleep—and pray there won't be any more snow tomorrow."

Twenty minutes later, she followed him up, pausing for a moment outside his room and listening at the door. She could hear nothing, and took that as a sign that he was asleep, and carried on to her own room.

As she undressed quickly and pulled some warm pyjamas from her suitcase to put on, it occurred to her that she ought, perhaps, to be concerned that a complete stranger was sleeping just a few yards from her bedroom. But she couldn't bring herself to worry about it. She knew, innately, that Edward wouldn't hurt her, and her only thought was that she was just so relieved that he was here, under her roof, in a warm bed, instead of dying alone on the side of a road, as people drove past, unknowing and uncaring.

**~o0o~**

Bella came awake with a jerk, her heart beating rapidly. She lay in her warm bed, just listening, as she tried to figure out what had woken her. Just as she was beginning to think she must have been dreaming, she heard it again.

A long, drawn out cry.

"_Noooooooo… pleeeaaassse…"_

Over and over it rang out in the darkness, and after a few moments while her sleep-befuddled mind struggled to make sense of it, she finally realised that it was coming from the room along the passage.

Suddenly mindless of the cold, Bella threw back the duvet, and shot out of bed, not even bothering with her robe or slippers.

She yanked open her door and flew down the hallway, stopping abruptly in front of Edward's door and knocking a rapid tattoo on the wood.

"Edward… Edward… are you okay? Edward?"

"_Please nooooo... pleeeaasse."_

A loud sob burst out of him and Bella couldn't wait any longer. Twisting the doorknob, she threw the door open and strode quickly over to the bed, where Edward was twisted up in his duvet, tossing and turning violently as his hands flailed about him, as if trying to fight off an invisible assailant.

Without really knowing what she was doing, Bella acted on instinct alone. Grabbing his two hands in hers, she held them to her chest as she bent over the bed and called out to him.

"Edward, hey, it's okay, shhhh, it's all okay, you're safe…"

His hands stopped trying to pull away from her and she let go of one of them in order to free up her own hand. As she did, she felt his grip on her other hand tighten. Climbing up on the bed to sit beside him, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. It wasn't that clean, feeling a little greasy, but she was surprised at how soft it was, nevertheless. She repeated the soothing gesture, and was pleased to see that he was beginning to calm.

"Shhh, beautiful boy, it's fine, you're safe… shhh, sleep now, everything's going to be okay…" She continued to stroke his hair and coo softly to him until he stopped jerking and crying out, and she could tell by his breathing that he had fallen into a dreamless sleep.

It was at this point that she realised how cold she was, despite having left the heating on. She started to get up, pulling gently to extricate her hand from his, but, even in sleep, she felt him tense and hold on tighter. She stopped pulling for a moment, waiting until she felt his fingers relax, and then finally managed to get her hand free.

She stood beside the bed for a moment, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to warm herself as she looked down on his thin, gaunt face. She had drawn the curtains earlier, but he had obviously opened them again before getting into bed, and now she could clearly see his striking features in the silvery light cast by the nearly full moon, it's glow accentuated by the reflection from the bright, white snow.

Not for the first time, she had to shake herself to rid her mind of the sly thoughts which tried to insinuate themselves into her consciousness—thoughts she had no business giving house-room to.

Edward was a homeless itinerant, probably barely out of his teens, and she had left a bad relationship only hours earlier. Whatever pull she felt towards him was surely borne out of sympathy for his plight, nothing more.

"Pull yourself to pieces, you foolish woman," she whispered irritably to the silent room, then turned away from the bed and hurried back to her own room.

As she slid back into bed she didn't notice the snow starting to fall again, huge flakes swirling around in the escalating breeze and beginning to adhere to her curtained window.

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

Torch – flashlight  
Estate agent – Real estate agent


	4. Snow

**Chapter 4 ~ Snow  
**

Bella struggled from the quicksand of sleep as the alarm on her phone dragged her protesting mind to consciousness, the memory of a bad dream dissipating like wind-tossed smoke. Groaning, she reached out for the offending instrument of torture and silenced it, falling back against the pillow with a sigh.

She could feel her eyes desperately trying to close and knew that if she didn't move immediately, she would fall back asleep and not wake until the day was half over, which wouldn't do at all. She needed to get to the supermarket and stock up, in case the snow hung around or—God forbid—got worse. So, with the force of will which had carried her through art school whilst working at two jobs, she levered herself into a sitting position and threw off the covers.

The first thing she noted was that the heating was still on, which was a relief, because it meant there would be plenty of hot water.

The second thing she noticed was that her face felt like she'd been kicked in the head by a horse.

Easing herself out of bed, she plodded into the adjoining bathroom to examine the damage wrought by Jake. The sight which greeted her in the mirror made her want to cry. Too late, she realised she should have dabbed some witch-hazel on the bruises the night before, but hindsight was a smug bitch. The whole of her cheek, up around her eye, her eyelid and across the bridge of her nose was purple, with some magenta fading to a sulphurous yellow, edging the area where it disappeared into her hair line. The biggest 1960s-style sunglasses wouldn't hide the fact that she'd been punched hard, and she cringed at the thought of a first meeting with any of her new neighbours in the village with such a mark on her face.

Sighing, she returned to the bedroom and rummaged in her bag for some ibuprofen, hoping that it would help with both the pain and the swelling, before returning to the bathroom to run a hot bath.

An hour later, bathed and dressed, with a judicious amount of foundation covering the worst of the bruise, she went downstairs. As she had hoped, the fire was still alive and giving off heat, so she set about clearing out the grate using a metal shovel and a large iron bucket. Setting the hot ashes aside to be emptied out later, she rebuilt the fire and knelt in front of it for a while as it caught, basking in the warmth.

She then got up to open the curtains and was a little shocked and concerned to see that it was snowing again. She went through to the front of the house and unlocked the front door, pulling it open to reveal a huge pile of snow over the car.

"Dammit to hell!" she muttered, closing the door quickly and running upstairs.

In his room, Edward had woken equally early, despite the unaccustomed warmth and comfort of his bed. Hearing Bella go downstairs, he rummaged in his duffle bag for his toothbrush and the small bar of soap he'd stowed there, and crossed the landing to the bathroom. Knowing he only had dirty clothes to wear, he decided against showering, much as he knew he needed it, but merely used the cheap soap to wash himself as thoroughly as possible, before brushing his teeth with cold water. He realised he would need to spend a little of his precious cash on some cheap toiletries, so he could shower later. By then, he hoped to be able to launder at least some of his clothes, thus providing him with something clean to wear.

He peered at himself in the mirror and rubbed a hand over the gold-flecked, auburn stubble that covered his jaw, his eyes drifting to the stud in his nose. Frowning, he decided it no longer fitted with the impression he wanted to make, and carefully removed it; the piercing would leave a mark, but he knew from experience that the hole wouldn't take long to close up. Tanya had done it herself, with a sewing needle, when they were both stoned, and he had never particularly liked it, believing that it made him look a bit effeminate. He contemplated also removing the rings that laced his ear, but just then he was distracted by the sound of the front door slamming, and returned to his room to get dressed.

Stopping outside Edward's room, Bella knocked rapidly on the door and then jumped back with a little shriek as it was immediately pulled open, revealing the man himself, dressed in the clothes he'd been wearing when she'd first seen him in the motorway café.

She had a few seconds to notice that, in the cold light of day, he looked unutterably hot, despite the dark shadows under his eyes and the gaunt hollowness of his features, which only served to accentuate his strong jaw and knife-blade cheekbones.

However, her perusal was short-lived, as his eyes widened and he stepped closer to her.

"Jesus Christ, Bella… your face!" Again, he raised his hand as if to touch her, before once more dropping it to his side without making contact.

Bella waved her hand dismissively, annoyed that her make-up was clearly doing such a poor job. "It's not that bad, don't worry about it."

"Bella, you should probably go to A&E*, your cheekbone could be fractured."

He looked at her sternly, and Bella got the very definite impression that he might know what he was talking about. But she had no time for that now.

"I doubt I could get to an A&E, as the nearest hospital with emergency facilities is probably in Cheltenham… and if you look out the window you'll see that we may have trouble even getting out the drive."

She pointed back into his room, which overlooked the front of the house, and then walked past him to the window. He joined her there, looking out over the seemingly endless swathe of white blanketing the landscape. It had to be said that it was an absolutely stunning view, with the church spire in the distance, but he had to agree with her that getting to the _village_ would be a challenge, let alone driving to the city.

Bella turned, tapping him on the arm. "Come on, we need to try and get down to the village now before it gets any worse—and before the shops get cleaned out."

She walked quickly out of the room and down the stairs, leaving him to follow in her wake.

**~o0o~**

Half an hour later, Bella and Edward were trudging across the snow-packed car park of the main supermarket, on the edge of the village. Yet again, Bella had cause to give thanks for the Land Rover. It had been a perilous and slippery ride, taking more than twice as long as it should. Before they had even got in the car, they'd had to dig out the driveway so they could open the gates. She had been terrified all the way here that she would lose control and run off the road or hit a parked car—several of which were barely visible under their snowy tarpaulins.

Before leaving the house, Bella had scoured the utility room, shouting in triumph when she had found several old pairs of wellington boots*. Going to one of her suitcases, she had dug out four pairs of socks and handed two pairs to Edward.

"They'll be too small, but just put one pair over the other and roll them over at the ankle, then put your own socks over them. That way, at least you'll have a few layers round your feet inside the boots. There's a pair here that are a size twelve—will they fit you?"

He took the socks and the proffered boots and did as she suggested. He then pushed his feet into the boots, which were still crusted with mud from God knows when. With a hard yank, he managed to get them on, stamping his feet and then grinning up at Bella.

"They're a bit tight, but I reckon they'll be better than my trainers."

Bella snorted. "Edward, my bloody slippers would be better than your trainers!"

She could have kicked herself when she saw his smile fade, to be replaced with a look of embarrassed acknowledgement.

"Hey, come on, we've got a lot of work to do before we can get the car out of the drive." She patted his arm gently and walked away.

But now they had made it, and, because it was barely gone nine o'clock on a Saturday morning, there were very few cars which had ventured out. Bella surmised that most people, warned ahead of time about the snow, would have done their big shop the evening before, so wouldn't have quite such an urgent need to come back out in such inhospitable conditions.

They got inside and Bella suggested they get a shopping trolley each, as they would need a lot of stuff.

Edward looked at her askance, frowning. "This weather isn't going to last that long, surely? And it's only for one person."

Bella sighed. "Edward, first of all, we have no idea how bad this snow is going to get—it's coming down harder all the time. Secondly, there's no way I can take you to Bristol, and you have no other means of getting there if I don't take you. So, thirdly, you're going to be staying with me for a few days, at least, and we need to stock up on _everything!_ Now, stop wasting time. We have to get what we need and get out of here quickly, before it becomes impossible to get home again. Okay?"

Edward nodded slowly. She was right of course, but he couldn't help but feel he was being an unnecessary burden. Plus, of course, he hardly had any money and had no idea how much she intended to spend—but it sounded like a lot. He would have to give her the whole fifteen quid, which would leave him with nothing, and no prospect of getting any more. He was a little desperate for a smoke, and had wanted to buy some rolling tobacco, but he just couldn't justify if now. Plus, he didn't want to smoke inside the house, and he really didn't fancy the idea of going outside for a ciggie in this weather.

_Oh well, I s'pose now's as good a time as any to give up!_

"Edward, come on!" Bella called from ahead of him, and he reluctantly followed her into the store.

He found himself watching with ill-concealed gloom, as Bella piled the two trolleys high with food, drinks, cleaning stuff and all manner of things which it would never occur to him to buy—like firelighters, matches, candles, stacks of batteries… he couldn't keep track.

However, when she picked up a pair of trainers and asked him what size he took, he had to put his foot down.

"Bella, you are not buying me trainers. Put them back."

She did as he asked, but then rounded on him, hands on hips, a peculiarly determined look on her face—one he would get to know well in the coming days.

"Now you listen to me, Edward… whatever your name is—at some point you, no doubt, are going to try and get to Bristol. Winter has come early, and this could be it until next spring, and you are woefully unprepared. You may not have any money at the moment, but I'm sure you have every intention of at least trying to get some work and make your own way in life—that's clear from your determined, if misguided, attempt to leave London when a blizzard was brewing. I've been poor and it's shit. But now I have some money of my own, for the first time in my life, and bugger-all to spend it on. I was given that house down the road, and my bank account grows at such an alarming rate, my accountant has made me appoint financial advisors… _financial fucking advisors, _Edward!

"So, if I want to spend thirty quid of my own money on a pair of cheap shoes for someone in need, then I'm bloody well going to do it. I'm also going to buy you some jeans that don't look like they're going to fall off you, and some t-shirts and underwear, so you can put your clothes in the washing machine without having to walk around naked…"

Bella suddenly stopped talking, blushing furiously, and Edward, who had just been standing there, mouth agape, felt a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth.

"Bella—"

"No, Edward, let me finish," she demanded, although it was clear she was a little flustered.

_Oh, God, stop thinking about him naked… dammit!_

"Um, yes, so as I was saying, you need clothes, yours are a disgrace. And I know you can't help it, so there's nothing to be ashamed about, but won't you please let me help you… because it's just a drop in the ocean for me, and it's… well, it's obviously a lot for you… and I don't mean to put you down or anything, because I know you'll pay me back when you can… but…"

She finally ran out of steam, looking up as Edward stepped closer to her.

"Hey, it's okay, I get it. And thanks… I… well, yeah, thanks." He looked at her and then down at his feet, not sure what else to say.

Inhaling deeply, Bella shuffled her feet and clasped her hands together. "Yeah, you're welcome. So, let's, uh, get done here and get home. I'm starving. Now, tell me again, what size shoe do you take?"

"Size eleven… and it's Masen," he responded quietly.

Bella looked at him, a confused look on her face.

"You said, 'Edward whatever your name is'… well, it's Edward Masen."

Bella nodded and smiled at him. "Pleased to meet you, Edward Masen."

After that, they finished quite quickly, although Edward tried hard not to think about the amount of clothing she was buying for him, which included a really nice, fleece-lined coat.

At the check-out, he watched, aghast, when the total rang up, but Bella didn't turn a hair, merely handing over a silver credit card and punching in her PIN number. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his fifteen pounds, holding it out to her.

"What's this?" she asked, frowning at the money.

"It's all I've got. I'm sorry it's not much, but it will at least cover some of the food."

Bella sighed. She knew it would hurt Edward's pride if she refused, but, at the same time, she didn't want to leave him with nothing. In reality, it didn't even come close to paying for any of the food or clothing she'd bought, but she realised it was important to him that she not see him as a beggar or parasite. It was a gesture that only further enhanced her opinion of him. She reached out and plucked the two notes from his hand and tucked them into the front pocket of her jeans. She was rewarded with a grateful smile, which told her she'd done the right thing. However, she fully intended to find a way to not only give him back his money, but get him to accept some kind of additional financial assistance before he left her.

Minutes later, they were carefully pushing the trolleys across the car park, which had been cleared somewhat since they arrived, and loading up the back of the car.

Before heading home, Bella decided to brave the weather to make one last stop, knowing that it would be important, especially if they got snowed in. Half way down the almost empty High Street, she found what she was looking for and pulled in. Telling Edward to stay in the car, she ran into the phone shop and, fifteen minutes later, returned with two new phones in a carrier bag. She needed a phone with a new number, and she wanted Edward to have a phone as well. She was aware he would baulk at the expensive gift, but was determined to persuade him it was a necessity. She justified her extravagance by telling herself that it would allow her to keep in touch with him when he left, thus ensuring he paid her back.

It was now obvious that the snow wasn't going to stop anytime soon, and despite the early hour, the dark sky cast a pall over the village which made it seem more like early evening. With the clouds thickening and the snow coming down ever harder, they were more than relieved when they finally made it back to the cottage.

Once they had carried their booty inside the house—taking two trips to manhandle all the bags indoors—they pretty much battened down the hatches and got ready to wait out the weather. It seemed that they had made it back just in time, with visibility dropping to little more than a few feet as the white-out enveloped the area and made further travel virtually impossible. Once all the shopping had been stowed away, Bella built up the fire again and turned on the television, where reports of road closures, traffic accidents and other weather-related emergencies dominated the news.

It was clear that neither she nor Edward would be going anywhere, anytime soon.

Bella was somewhat surprised to discover that she was not just relieved, but also… _happy_ that Edward would have to stay put, at least for the time being.

Knowing that they now had sufficient food to keep them going for the next few days, Bella decided to take inventory of their fuel supplies. The central heating was gas-fired, but she knew the area was prone to electricity black-outs, which would knock out the timer and prevent ignition, so they needed to check what other heating, lighting and cooking resources they had. The hob and cooker were electric, and in the event of a power cut there would be no microwave either. However, the fire in the living room had hooks for cooking pots, and she discovered some old-style cast iron pans, that would be ideal for that purpose, in the large walk-in pantry off the kitchen,. Indeed, the pantry, which Bella hadn't particularly noticed on previous visits, proved to be something of a treasure trove in terms of their current situation. Aside from a large stash of candles, to which Bella added those she'd bought that day, there were four hurricane lamps with lamp oil, a couple of heavy-duty torches and several jumbo boxes of matches.

The biggest surprise, though, was the stockpile of jars and tinned food which she found right at the back of the pantry. Dozens of tins of soup, cured meat, fruits and vegetables, plus an array of jars of home-made jams, pickles, chutneys and preserved fruit. It was as if her grandmother had been expecting nuclear Armageddon and had taken steps to ensure that, if nothing else, she wouldn't starve to death. In addition to the tins and jars, there was dried milk, egg and fruit, as well as flour for baking.

Calling Edward, she frowned when he didn't respond. Leaving the pantry, she went looking for him, finding him in the basement.

"Edward?"

"Over here," came his disembodied voice, and she walked towards the other end of the basement where the light from the overhead bulb barely reached.

"Look!" he exclaimed, holding open a door at the back of the room.

"Oh my God, it's coal!" she gasped.

"Yeah, like a ton of it! There must be enough here to keep all the fires in the house going for a year." Edward grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the coal cellar, going deeper into the basement.

"And look at all this," he said, directing the torch beam across the end wall, which appeared to be lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves. On the shelves were dozens more cans and jars of food, similar to those she'd found in the pantry. However, unlike in the pantry, there was also a large wine rack, which was full of bottles—Bella guessed there must be at least thirty.

She laughed, drawing a curious look from Edward, and she explained her own findings upstairs. They both grinned at one another when they realised that, even in the unlikely event that it snowed for a month, they would neither starve nor freeze to death.

They headed back upstairs, where Edward retrieved the large coal bucket from beside the fireplace and went back down to the basement to fill it. Bella was hugely relieved about the coal, as she knew that if they'd had to rely on just the logs, they would burn through them really quickly. Now, though, not only would the coal last longer, it would give off a lot more heat, and they could have fires in the bedrooms if the power went out.

Once the fire was built up, she went into the kitchen to prepare a late breakfast, whilst Edward took the bags of clothes she had bought to his room.

Upstairs, he emptied the contents on the bed and stared at Bella's purchases with something akin to horror. She had obviously been throwing stuff in willy-nilly without him realising. He couldn't believe the amount she had bought—he was never going to be able to pay her back.

Apart from the trainers, parka and multiple t-shirts, there were two pairs of jeans, in black and indigo, a smart pair of black trousers, a couple of shirts, one white, one black, and a pair of black leather shoes; there were packs of boxer briefs, socks, and two pairs of sweat pants, in black and in navy; there was a pair of leather, fur-lined slippers and a knee-length robe in soft white terry cloth; there were two thick woollen sweaters, one a cream Aran with a shawl collar, and the other a dark green v-neck; and finally, there were two black woollen beanie hats, a black woollen scarf and two pairs of warm, leather gloves. He didn't think he'd ever owned so many clothes in his entire life.

Edward pushed both hands through his hair as he regarded the fruits of Bella's extraordinary largesse. Apart from the cost, how the hell was he supposed to take all this stuff with him when he left? Where would he put it all? He couldn't burden himself with a suitcase, or even a large holdall, because if he ended up back on the streets—which was a very real possibility—it would just weigh him down, and probably end up getting stolen.

He shook his head, knowing that he would have to leave most of it behind, and wondering how he would ever repay her.

But the clothes were here and he couldn't deny it would be good to wear something decent—and clean—for a change. He was soon enough going to be struggling at the arse-end of society, so he might as well make the most of all the luxuries that were currently at his disposal. Stripping off his shabby clothes, he put on the robe, which was soft and cosy against his skin, and went across to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he looked around and then shook his head in disbelief. Filling the previously empty shelf over the sink were a razor, shaving foam, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash and deodorant. When he opened the shower door, he saw shampoo, conditioner and body wash, together with one of those weird, round netty balls he'd seen in girls' bathrooms.

He turned the water on and it quickly ran hot, filling the bathroom with steam. Stepping under the powerful stream of water, he revelled in the heat and luxury of just standing in a clean shower stall with plenty of hot water. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to do this, and for a moment he allowed himself the indulgence of simply letting the steaming water cascade down over his skin.

He squeezed some shower gel onto the net ball and watched in amazement as it quickly foamed up. Rubbing it experimentally down his arm, he had to admit it felt good on his skin and he set about scrubbing himself clean, before washing his hair and rinsing off. Stepping out of the shower, he wiped the steam off the mirror and examined himself. The cheap, non-permanent dye in his hair was quickly fading, his own coppery tones showing through, with a couple of inches of auburn at the roots. Sighing, he knew there was little he could do about it right at that moment, and started running hot water into the basin in order to give himself a much needed shave.

Back in his room, he put on the new, dark-wash jeans, along with a white t-shirt and a thick pair of socks. He then pulled the cream Aran sweater over his head and smoothed it down. One of the sliding wardrobe doors was mirrored and he looked at himself critically. He was a little underweight, he knew, and the jeans hung a bit loose on his hips, but the thick jumper fitted well over his broad shoulders, at the same time masking his lack of body mass, and he didn't feel like such a scarecrow as normal. Digging out a hair tie from the pocket of his leather jacket, he pulled his long hair back and secured it at the nape of his neck. He studied himself for several more minutes and then, satisfied, he left the room and headed downstairs, where he could hear Bella in the kitchen.

Strolling in, he watched her for a moment from just inside the door, until she glanced up and smiled at him. God, she had a beautiful smile, even with her face all fucked-up like it was.

"Hey, you look great—does everything fit? Oh, I just realised… you took out your nose-stud!"

She was amazed at the transformation which a shower and clean clothes had wrought upon the young man before her. In particular, she was taken aback, once again, at just how handsome he was, now that he'd shaved—just as she'd suspected, he had a jaw you could cut glass with, and the sight did strange things to her.

"Yeah, I was bored with it. I'm not even sure why I got it, 'cause it was always a complete pain to take out and put back in."

She nodded, but didn't comment, returning her attention to the pine-topped island, where she was chopping mushrooms. He walked over to her side, reaching out to still her hand, forcing her to look up at him again.

"Bella, it's too much."

She frowned. "What's too much?"

"The clothes, Bella, you shouldn't have bought all that stuff. I mean, I really appreciate your kindness, but I can't possibly take all that stuff with me, and it's going to take me forever to pay you back."

Bella pulled her hand from where Edward's still rested on top of it. Straightening, she crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him irritably.

"Take it or don't take it, it makes no difference to me. But whilst you're here I would like you to be able to wear something better—not to say, warmer—than the clothes you came in. As for the money, you can take ten years to pay me back, for all I care, I don't bloody need the money, Edward. It gave me pleasure to buy those things for you, so please don't take that away from me."

Edward stepped back, a little surprised at her outburst. And now she was pouting, and he was captivated.

_Fuck me, she's pretty, even with her face all swollen and bruised._

They continued to stare at one another for almost a minute, until it started to get a little awkward. Edward was the first to break the impasse.

"Uh, okay… well, thanks. I didn't mean to offend you."

Bella gave him a small smile and shook her head, dropping her arms to her sides.

"No problem. Now, I was just about to do some bacon, eggs, mushrooms and toast. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

He grinned at her. "Sounds great—what can I do to help?"

* * *

*** Clarification:-**

A&E – Accident & Emergency (ER)  
Wellington boots – knee-high galoshes


	5. Neighbours

**Chapter 5 ~ Neighbours**

There was little conversation over breakfast, as Edward wolfed down the delicious and high quality food Bella had prepared. Truth be told, even if it had been the cheapest economy fare, cooked in the grubbiest, greasy spoon café, he would have eaten it with relish. All he'd had the day before was an egg sandwich—the least costly option at the motorway services—and the bowl of soup Bella had given him more than six hours ago. As for the day before that, he couldn't actually remember whether he'd eaten anything at all.

Bella watched with alarm as Edward ate, and when he used the last piece of toast to mop up his fried egg, she stood and put some more bread in the toaster. Despite the impoverishment of her upbringing, she could never remember being really hungry in the true sense of the word, and her heart ached for this malnourished young man. She buttered the extra toast and carried it over to the table, putting both slices on his empty plate. He looked up at her, smiling sheepishly and offering a quiet thanks, before reaching for the jar of marmalade and spreading a generous portion on each piece.

Once they'd finished, Edward offered to clean up. Much as Bella wanted to take the opportunity to quiz him on the circumstances which had brought him to this point in his life, she knew she needed to make some calls. Excusing herself, she went upstairs to her room, where her new phone was charging, and started going through the messages on her old one. Inevitably, there were numerous voicemails and texts from Jake, but she had no compunction in deleting them all without listening to or reading any of them. She then started calling the important people in her life to give them her new number, and explain that she had left Jake. She let them know that she was safe, giving her new address to those who needed it, asking that they not share the information with Jake, should he contact them. She knew she could trust them not to, as none of them had particularly liked him.

By the time she'd talked to everyone, she was surprised to note that she'd been on the phone for over two hours. She suddenly felt overwhelmed with tiredness, and despite thinking she ought to check on Edward, and maybe even try doing some writing, she decided to lie down and take a nap.

**~o0o~  
**

It was dark when Bella awoke, feeling inexplicably panicky when she realised how late it was. She went to the bathroom and splashed some water on her face, noting with relief that it felt a little less painful than it had that morning. Making her way downstairs, she first checked the sitting room, where she noted that the fire had been built up and was burning merrily away, casting a warm glow over the whole room.

She took a moment to turn on the wall-mounted lighting, then headed to the kitchen, where she found Edward busily preparing dinner.

"Hey," she greeted him, smiling.

He grinned at her, putting down the knife he was using to dice an onion, and walking over to the sink to rinse his hands and fill the kettle.

"Hi. I hope you don't mind, but I thought I'd make a start on dinner. Is spaghetti Bolognese okay?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, that's great. But you didn't have to do that..." She was pleased he was offering, but unsure what his cooking would be like.

"I know I didn't have to, but it's the least I could do. I _can_ cook, if that's what you're worried about—and it's only spag bol.

She looked around at the ingredients neatly set out on the island, the large pan sitting on the hob, the pile of well-chopped onion and garlic, and realised that he did, indeed, seem to know what he was doing.

"Well, you seem to have everything under control—what can I do?"

Edward directed her to making the salad, whilst he transferred the onion and garlic to the pan. They continued to work together, as Bella silently admired his obvious kitchen skills. Soon, a large pan of Bolognese sauce was bubbling away, and giving off a mouth-watering aroma.

As they finished off the preparation of their meal, the sound of crunching snow underfoot alerted them to the possible arrival of a visitor, swiftly confirmed by a knock on the back door. They both glanced across the room and then back at one another, neither one making a move to answer it.

The knock came again, this time accompanied by a rather jolly female voice.

"Yoohoo, anyone home?"

Bella recovered first, glancing quickly at Edward and noting a look of relief cross his features which, coincidentally, duplicated her own. Putting down the wooden spoon she'd been stirring the sauce with, she went over to the back door to loosen the bolts and unlock it. When she opened it a blast of freezing air enveloped her and she shivered in her sweater and jeans. Immediately assessing the absence of any risk presented by the tiny woman and her blond companion standing on the back porch, she stood back and ushered them both in, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Hello. Please excuse the invasion, but we're your neighbours, and thought we'd just come check that squatters* hadn't moved in!" The woman laughed softly and beamed at Bella, before looking up at the tall man beside her.

He smiled warmly and held his hand out. "Hi, I'm Jasper Whitlock, this is my wife, Alice, and you, I'm guessing, are Miss Swan."

Bella took Jasper's hand and shook it firmly, before offering her hand to Alice, who completely ignored it and wrapped her arms round Bella in a warm hug.

"Oh, it's so good to meet you at last," she said as she pulled back. "I do hope you don't mind us just dropping in on you, but when we saw the lights and the chimney smoke, I have to admit we were dying of curiosity."

Bella laughed and then smiled at Alice. "It's lovely to meet you—and thank you for tramping out in this bloody awful weather to check on us."

"Oh, that's okay, we're right next door," Jasper replied, pointing towards the back wall of the property.

At this point, Alice had turned to look at Edward, who had remained silent during the initial introductions.

"Hello," Alice said, smiling brightly at him, and Edward found it was impossible not to return the smile. Then he looked at Bella, unsure if he should introduce himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry. This is… my, uh, friend, Edward… oh, and I'm Bella, by the way."

Jasper and Alice moved across the kitchen to similarly welcome Edward, before turning back to Bella.

"Well, as I say, we just wanted to check you were okay, and that you managed to lay in some supplies. The forecast is terrible, and there's a good chance the village could get cut off—it's happened before," Alice informed them.

"Gosh, really," Bella looked at Edward, and then back to Alice. "Well, we managed to get everything we needed this morning from Asda, and, um, actually, it seems that my grandmother was anticipating some kind of nuclear holocaust or something, because the pantry and basement are packed with canned and bottled food, plus all sorts of other stuff."

"Wait, Cynthia Copeland was your grandmother?" Alice glanced up at Jasper, then back to Bella. "Gosh, how did we not know she had a grand-daughter?"

"Oh, well, it's kind of a long story. I never really knew her…" Bella trailed off, unsure how much to say to these people who were virtual strangers, and who seemed to have known her relative a good deal better than she.

"Sorry, it's none of our business, of course, and you're obviously in the middle of preparing dinner, so we'll leave you to it. Come on, Jazz."

Alice turned to go, but Bella reached out and put her hand on Alice's arm.

"No, it's okay. Listen, we've made an absolute shedload of food—it's just pasta and salad, but if you'd like to join us, you're very welcome." She smiled as she looked from Alice to Jasper. She wasn't sure why, but she felt intuitively that she could trust them.

The couple looked at one another, seeming to communicate wordlessly, before Alice turned back to Bella, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh, that would be fab, we'd love to."

Behind her, Bella heard Edward clear his throat and she looked round to see him shuffling awkwardly towards the door.

"Um, well, I'll just get out of your way…" he mumbled, pointing towards the door.

Bella frowned. "What? Where are you going?"

"Uh, well, I'll just go read my book upstairs. I'll grab something later—"

"What are you talking about, Edward? Don't you want to eat with us?" Bella was utterly nonplussed.

He shook his head, looking equally bemused. "You've got guests, you don't want me hanging around."

"Oh, for goodness' sake, don't be silly! You live here—at least for the moment—and they're _our_ guests. Now, why don't you go open a bottle of red and I'll get Alice and Jasper settled in front of the fire."

Edward stood still, looking a little uncertain, but when Bella made a 'shooing' motion, he shrugged and went into the pantry to find the wine.

At the same time, Bella ushered their guests into the sitting room, where a big fire crackled in the grate.

She took their coats and invited them to remove their wellington boots as well, then went in search of Edward and the drinks. She found him still in the kitchen, extracting wine glasses from the Welsh dresser.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked quietly.

He turned and looked at her, before dropping his gaze to the floor. "Yeah. Look, I'm sorry about earlier, I… well, I didn't want to put you in an awkward situation, and I didn't know what you would want me to do. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," he told her, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Bella laughed. "You didn't embarrass me at all, Edward… although I'd wager you've got Alice and Jasper ultra-curious! They're probably in there now, desperately trying to work out who—and what—you are to me. In fact, looking the way you do, they probably think you're a male escort, or something."

He looked up, smiling sheepishly, two spots of colour blooming in his cheeks. "You think I look like a male escort?"

Bella could feel her own blush suffuse her face as she realised what she'd said.

"Um, well, they could, being as you're so good-looking… at least, _they_ probably think you're good-looking… not that I don't think you're good-looking… I mean, obviously, you are good looking…"

_Oh, God, please let me stop saying he's good-looking_.

"Ohh-kaay, so I'll just take the wine in to them…"

"Uh, yeah, great… good idea… I'll, uh, check the… uh… sauce…?" Bella grimaced, feeling her face getting hotter and hotter.

They went to pass one another, doing one of those odd side-stepping dances, until Edward grabbed Bella's shoulders and swivelled her around so that they had swapped places. He then picked up the wine and two glasses and headed towards the sitting room, controlling the smirk which pulled at his lips until he'd turned his back.

Bella stood in place, her mind solely focussed on the fact that she could still feel the warmth of his hands on her shoulders. She leaned forward and placed both hands on the worktop, taking a deep breath, as she tried to figure out what had just passed between them. However, before she could give it further thought, he was back, and she made herself turn quickly to the hob where the Bolognese sauce was bubbling gently.

"Uh, Bella?"

She hummed in response, but didn't turn around, concentrating on improving her stirring technique.

"Um, is it okay if I have a lager instead of wine? I mentioned to Jasper that you had some cans of Fosters in the fridge, and he asked if he could have one."

Bella finally turned round, frowning at Edward's tentative enquiry.

"I don't drink lager, Edward, I bought them in case you'd like one. As far as I'm concerned, everything I bought today is for us to share—well, apart from your clothes, of course—so if you want something, just help yourself, you don't have to ask. So the answer is, yes, it's okay if you want a lager, and you can take one in for Jasper as well."

She turned back to the stove, but then seemed to remember something. "Oh, and that applies to the stuff we found in the pantry and the basement too. Okay?"

He smiled and nodded, murmuring a quiet 'thanks', before going to the fridge and extracting two cans of Fosters.

"This is pretty much ready. Let's join our guests for a quick drink and then I'll put the pasta on."

In the sitting room, Alice and Jasper were sitting together on the sofa, so Bella and Edward each took one of the big, wing-backed chairs. Despite the weather, the room was snug and warm, and they were all comforted by the sound of the crackling fire and the rich aroma of the simple but tasty meal awaiting them.

Sipping their drinks, Bella asked about her new neighbours, who were happy to chat about themselves.

Jasper revealed that he was Professor of History at Bristol University, and Alice owned and ran a small bookshop and café in the village.

"Gosh, that must be hard to make a go of in this day and age of Amazon and all the other online bookshops. Even the big book retailers seem to be struggling and closing down. Borders has gone and it's hard to find a Waterstone's anywhere. How do you manage?"

"Actually, it's doing pretty well. We don't have any of the big chains here—the nearest are in Cheltenham or Bristol—and I think people still rather like the idea of browsing in a bookshop, especially if they can sit down and read their purchases over a cup of coffee. I sell magazines as well, and I'll order in specialist publications for those who want them. Also, we used to have a library, but spending cuts have meant that it was closed down, which means the nearest one is in Cirencester. So I've got a second-hand section, from which people can borrow books for a small deposit, and then, if they want to buy a particular book to keep, I deduct the amount of their deposit from the discounted price. I also buy back or part-exchange any books they've purchased new to add to the second-hand section. So far, the scheme seems to be working pretty well."

Edward frowned. "But doesn't that mean they just borrow books instead of buying them new, then purchase them at a knock-down price? Surely you would lose money that way."

"You might think so, but actually, it's turned out really well. I still get more people buying new than borrowing, plus most of the borrowers and a lot of the buyers tend to use the café, which more than makes up for any loss on the discounted books. I do really well during the holiday season, and because I have an open fire, I get a lot of people in during the off-season too. In fact, when the shop next door became vacant, I took it over so I could knock through to provide a bigger café, which allowed me to expand the library and second-hand sections."

"Wow, that sounds fantastic, Alice—I'm going to have to call in once the weather improves," Bella told her.

"Oh yes, you must. It's called 'Wonderland', right in the middle of the High Street. Actually, this weather is a bugger, because everyone is going to have to stay home. Chipping Mallard is in a kind of basin, so when it snows like this, we get pretty much completely cut off. Do you remember when it snowed back in November 2010? Even the snow ploughs couldn't get to us then. That's probably when your grandmother decided to stock up in case it happened again."

Bella and Edward exchanged a look and then smiled at Alice.

"Well, it really is a treasure trove, so if you guys run out of anything, just let us know, because I'm sure we can help you out."

Jasper grinned. "We may well take you up on that if it doesn't stop snowing soon."

**~o0o~**

A little later, as they all sat round the dining table, Jasper and Alice quizzed their hosts, which became a rather more difficult conversation.

Alice was the first to delve, asking Bella to explain the 'long story' about her grandmother, to which she had alluded earlier.

"Oh, well, there's nothing much to tell, really. My mother was her daughter, and, it seems, married 'beneath her'." Bella rolled her eyes as she said this, and shook her head.

"My grandparents didn't approve of my father or the marriage, and pretty much disinherited my mother. Apparently—although I have no memory of it—mum took me to see my grandparents a couple of times, but I must have been very young, and certainly don't remember them ever being in our lives or even talked about, so I guess they were pretty shitty to my parents. In fact, I was astonished when I got a letter from a solicitor telling me that grandmother left me this cottage. Apart from anything else, mum always told me she came from Berkshire, so I couldn't figure out why the old girl moved here."

Alice frowned at her. "Well, she didn't really live here full time, it was just a holiday cottage, I think. Although, after her husband died, she did start spending more time here. I understood she had a big house and estate near Windsor, so that would tie in with your mother coming from Berkshire. Did you inherit that as well?"

"What?! No way. Everything but this cottage was left to a cousin of my grandfather's or something. I didn't get any money, but then this place must be worth a pretty penny, I suppose."

"Gosh, yes, I'll say! There's a cottage very similar to this on the other side of the village which sold for over half a million in the summer. I know house prices have dropped a bit since then, but these places are still in demand. Are you planning to live here permanently?"

"Um, well, I'm not sure. I think I'd like to—I've always lived in London, but it's so beautiful here and I'm pretty sure I could work here."

Jasper spoke up. "Oh, what do you do?"

"I, uh, write, I suppose… and I'm an illustrator." Bella still felt weird describing what she did—it still seemed so surreal to her.

Edward looked at her, eyebrows raised, then back at Alice and Jasper. "Bella is I M Swan, author of—"

Alice gasped. "Oh my God! You wrote 'The Dark House'?"

Bella blushed, smiling shyly. "Yep, that would be me. Have you read it?"

"Absolutely! It's so good. Are you writing another one… oh, please say you are!"

Bella grinned at Alice's enthusiasm. "Well, I've got a storyline sketched out and was hoping to get started on it after Christmas. I've got to finish a book tour in the run up to Christmas, and then I need to work on the illustrations I'm doing for Angela Weber's new children's book, but then I need to get stuck in, as I've got a July deadline to meet."

"Oh, this just keep getting better. You illustrate the 'Ashkran World' books? Good God, woman, you're a literary _and_ artistic genius!"

Bella laughed out loud. "Hardly, but thanks for the compliment."

"No, really. Angela Weber's books are one of the biggest sellers amongst the mothers and kids, especially now that Harry Potter's done and dusted."

Suddenly, Alice's eyes went wide and she clapped her hands together.

"Bella, I've just had the most wonderful idea—if you'd be willing, of course. Would you consider letting me display some of your artwork in the shop? Maybe one or two of your Ashkran illustrations in the children's section, and… oh, I don't know, maybe something original in the café? Oh, do say you'll think about it!"

Bella laughed. "I don't have to think about it Alice, I would love to give you something. You'll have to give me time to sort out a studio here, and go through my work—and I'd need to talk to Angela about the 'Ashkran' drawings, but I'm betting she will love the idea. Maybe I could even come in when the weather's improved and sign a few copies of my book, if you think they'd sell."

"Think they'd sell?! Oh, Bella, people will be queuing round the corner to get a signed copy—I'll have to get in extra staff," she laughed, only half joking.

The conversation continued to flow easily between Alice, Jasper and Bella, although Edward spoke little, feeling a little out of place. He concentrated on his food, and listening to Bella, whose laughter made him feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside—or maybe that was just the alcohol. He also found himself unable to look away from her profile—the uninjured one—for more than a few seconds at a time. Indeed, so distracted was he by his hostess, that he failed to notice when Jasper turned and directed a question specifically his way.

"Edward?"

"Sorry?"

"I was wondering what you do… what brings you to these parts."

"Oh, uh…" Edward frowned, and looked at Bella, whose gaze was fixed on his face. "I, um—"

"Edward was heading to Bristol to see a friend, so I said I'd give him a lift, but the weather's kind of put a kybosh on all his plans, as his friend probably won't still be around by the time the snow clears, so he's going to stay on here for a bit and help me out with the house."

Bella was aware that she was making stuff up as she went along, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. She looked at Edward, who was staring back at her, eyes wide and mouth open.

She gave a nervous chuckle. "No need to look so surprised, Edward, it's what we agreed _this morning_… you remember… when we _talked_ about you helping me sort out whatever needs doing around the house… you know… like, uh, setting up the studio?" She was grasping at straws now, but discovered that she really wanted to find a reason for him to stay.

After an interminable pause, when Jasper and Alice looked between the couple before them, who seemed to be trying to communicate telepathically, Edward finally spoke.

"Uh, no, I haven't changed my mind, I was just… uh, not sure if you had. But, uh, yeah, obviously… it's what we agreed, so yeah, I'll, uh, stay on… you know, as long as you need me to."

Alice regarded Bella and Edward as they continued to lock eyes. There was a lot more to their relationship than met the eye, and she would dearly love to know what was going on with them… and who gave Bella a black eye. Not Edward, of that she was pretty sure, but there was a story here and she was burning with curiosity to find out the details. She knew from the author notes on the cover of Bella's book that she was in her late twenties, and clearly Edward was significantly younger, but that, of course, meant nothing. She suspected there was no relationship as yet—at least, not a sexual one—but there was definitely something going on between them, and she decided that it was only a matter of time before sparks flew.

She smiled to herself. Bella looked like a woman who could use a friend, and Alice knew in her bones that the two of them could be great friends. As for Edward, she could almost feel the pall of sadness which surrounded him. This was a boy who had known very hard times indeed, but maybe here, in this beautiful, tranquil place, he could find his nirvana, with Bella.

She resolved to make it her new mission to help both of them.

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

Squatters – People who break into empty properties and take up illegal residence.


	6. Nightmares

**Chapter 6 ~ Nightmares**

It was late when they called it a night. After dinner, they had returned to the sitting room, where the red hot coals of the fire gave out an all-encompassing, radiant heat. As more wine and beer was consumed, the conversation flowed freely and easily, the four of them chatting like old friends. Even Edward, at first so tongue-tied and awkward, found that Alice and Jasper were affable and amusing company, despite the difference in their ages and education—it was as if they intuitively understood that his background precluded certain subjects, and steered the conversation accordingly, without ever seeming to patronise him.

As for Bella and Alice, it was clear that this single evening would see them forge a deep and long-lasting friendship. Bella had never really had a close friend growing up—at least, not one who could rightly own the title of 'best friend'. After she left school, she pretty much lost touch with her classmates, and at college, between studying full time and working every minute of her spare time, there simply hadn't been the time or opportunity to make close friends. Certainly, there was no money for socialising, and the invitations which came at the start of college quickly dried up in the face of her constant refusals. Seen as stand-offish and unfriendly, it soon became clear that no lasting relationships would come from her academic career.

Later, as she had become established at the restaurant, she had made her first close friendship with a fellow waitress, Rose. She was beautiful and feisty and so full of confidence, that Bella had developed a bit of a girl-crush on her. The other waitresses hadn't liked her very much, but Bella loved that she didn't give a flying fuck what people thought of her, and envied the way she never took any shit from grabby or unpleasant customers. Rose had told her once that she had dropped out of school at sixteen, refusing to reveal why, but it was clear she was a highly intelligent and articulate woman.

In fact, Bella had cause to be grateful for Rose's feistiness and quick thinking on one particular occasion when she had been pretty much on her own in the late afternoon, with just one table of business men who'd enjoyed a long and wine-soaked lunch. As she had tried to politely ask if they wanted anything else, hoping they would ask for the bill, one of them had made some pretty graphic and unpleasant requests. Shocked, Bella had become flustered and embarrassed, which seemed to encourage a couple of the others, one of whom decided to make a grab for her. In the space of just a few seconds, what had been a bit of an annoyance had become incredibly threatening and scary, as two of the guys stood up, effectively cutting off Bella's escape route back to the kitchen, where her colleagues were all taking a break.

And then, as if out of nowhere, Rose appeared. Coming up behind the most predatory of the men, she jammed her knee into the back of his, making him suddenly crumple. Immediately, she put one arm round him, her free hand supporting his elbow as she guided him to an empty seat.

"Woopsy-daisy, there, sir. It looks like you've probably had a little bit too much to drink. Let me get you the bill so you can take yourself home," she cooed, as he gazed up at her in confusion.

Meanwhile, the other men, distracted by what was happening with their friend, finally turned away from Bella, allowing her to quickly scoot around the table.

"Ah, there you are, hun… why don't you go sort out the bill while I clear the table for these gentlemen," Rose smiled, flicking her eyes towards the bar to indicate that Bella should move. She didn't hesitate, and fifteen minutes later, Rose was shepherding the party out the door, smiling and thanking them for their custom. As she closed the door on them, she turned back to see Bella standing by the bar, a grateful look on her face.

"I don't know how you did that, Rose, but I owe you," she said softly.

The blonde waved her hand dismissively and said nothing, heading into the kitchen. As she passed Bella, she smirked and gave her a wink.

That day, they had forged a friendship which, if not necessarily close, had been mutually beneficial, the two of them partnering up to help each other out in a crisis—covering shifts and generally keeping an eye out for one another.

Bella learned a lot from her new friend, who had taken great pains to try and instil in her confidence and self-reliance.

Even after she left the restaurant to pursue her illustrating, they had kept in touch, meeting up occasionally for a drink. But she was ashamed to note that, since moving in with Jake, their friendship had somewhat fallen by the wayside. She had found all her time being swallowed up, not just by her new career, but also by her role as lover, housewife and occasional punch bag. Looking back, she was angry with herself that she had forgotten so many of the lessons Rose had taught her, allowing Jake to subsume and abuse her.

Bella couldn't help thinking about Rose and what she might be up to now, as she and Edward said their goodbyes to Jasper and Alice. It was over a year since she'd seen her, and she made a decision to try and re-establish contact.

With promises to reciprocate soon on the dinner front, and an open invitation to both Bella and Edward to visit the shop for a free coffee, Jasper and Alice bundled up and set off across the snow-shrouded garden. With their way clearly illuminated by the moon's silvery reflection on white, they headed unerringly towards a barely discernible gate in the back fence, where they disappeared from view into their adjoining property.

Exhausted and a little drunk, Bella headed back to the sitting room, where she picked up the dirty glasses, following in Edward's wake as he carried empty cans and bottles into the kitchen.

"Leave everything, we can clean up in the morning," she told him, smiling wearily. Too tired to argue, Edward nodded.

"I enjoyed tonight, Bella—thanks for including me… for making me feel like I… belonged."

She looked round quickly from where she was depositing beer cans and bottles into the recycling bins in the pantry, but before she could respond, he was gone. She sighed, once again feeling that familiar ache of compassion for his wounded soul.

After banking the fire and putting up the fireguard, Bella turned everything off and headed upstairs to bed, calling goodnight to Edward as she passed the bathroom.

As she climbed into bed, Bella hoped that he would rest easier tonight, anticipating that all the drink they'd consumed would allow him to enjoy a dreamless slumber.

**~o0o~**

Bella had no idea how long Edward had been screaming, but by the way his voice was starting to crack, it must have been a while. This time, she wasn't brought to sudden wakefulness, but, rather, found her dream being invaded by the chilling cries of a broken man… cries which gradually morphed from her subconscious to her conscious mind.

As Edward's heart-rending screams faded out of her dream and into her reality, Bella finally drifted awake, registering at last the dreadful noise emanating from his room. Now fully alert, she quickly got out of bed, remembering this time to grab her robe, fumbling with the sleeves as she rushed down the passage.

She didn't even bother knocking this time, just twisted the knob and pushed the door open. In an almost exact replay of the previous night, she found Edward twisted in his sheets, grappling with some unseen enemy, as his plaintive cries filled the room.

In the light cast by the moon through the uncurtained window, Bella dashed to the side of the bed and climbed up to kneel beside the frighteningly distressed boy. Gathering him into her arms, despite his flailing hands, she pulled him to her chest as she sat back on her haunches. Wrapping him in her warm embrace, she rocked him from side to side, softly shushing him, as his cries died to quiet sobs and whimpers. Assuming he was still asleep, she bent and kissed his head, as she combed her fingers soothingly through his hair.

And then his arms slid around her waist and held her tight as he nuzzled in between her breasts.

Bella froze, her heart going from nought to sixty in record time.

For what seemed like the longest ten seconds of her life, neither of them moved or even seemed to breathe.

And then Edward pulled his face away from her chest and looked up at her, his jade eyes red-rimmed and haunted. The cold half-light cast by the moon as it filtered in through the window, bleached his skin of all colour, giving him an other-worldly appearance.

As Bella gazed down at him, the shock and disquiet she felt at being in such an intimate embrace quickly dissolved, to be replaced with compassion and heartache for the overwhelming sorrow which was etched into Edward's face and buried deep behind his beautiful eyes.

Bringing a hand round to cup his cheek, she softly stroked her thumb across his cheekbone.

_Oh, Edward, whatever happened to you?_ she thought, wishing she could take away his pain.

After a moment of her gentle ministrations, Edward's eyes began to droop and she prepared to extricate herself from his grasp. However, as she dropped her hand and started to pull away, his grip tightened and his eyes flew open, revealing a fear she couldn't hope to understand.

"Don't go… please," he whispered, his pleading voice hoarse from his earlier screaming fit.

"Edward, there's nothing to be afraid of, you're completely safe here," she told him, trying hard to offer him some comfort.

"I… I know, I just… please? Just 'til I fall asleep?"

He sounded so desperate, she couldn't, in all good conscience, desert him, but she couldn't help feeling a little awkward.

"It's cold, Edward—"

"Shit, of course you are. Do you want to get under the covers?"

Bella stared at him for a moment, but all she could see in his eyes or hear in his voice was fear and longing; she could detect no artifice or ulterior motive.

"Okay, then, just for a few minutes… shift over."

He gave her a watery smile and slid across to the other side of the bed. She stood up, and then lifted the covers, crawling in beside Edward and lying on her back. A moment later, he scooted down to lie beside her. He thought she'd probably be pretty uncomfortable in her robe, but said nothing, not wanting to give her any reason to leave him at this point.

"Thank you," he whispered in the dark.

Bella turned her head to look at him and smiled. "You're welcome, hun. Now, try and get some sleep, eh?"

He wanted to turn and reach out for her, wanted to feel the comfort of her arms around him, which had felt so good a short while ago. But he resisted the urge, merely rolling onto his side so that he was facing, but not touching her. A few minutes later he drifted into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

**~o0o~**

Bella woke, feeling really hot, and like there was a huge weight pressing her into the mattress. It turned out there was a very good reason for both.

Attempting to stretch, she became aware of two things.

That she was no longer wearing her robe.

And Edward was completely entwined with her.

With his arms wrapped tightly around her, his head on her chest and his leg flung across both of hers, she was completely pinned down.

As she tried to move, Edward made a soft, sort of harrumphing sound and tightened his grip.

Bella turned her head to look at his face, which, like the night before, was nuzzled against her breasts.

_Lord, he's beautiful_, she thought.

A part of her wanted to push him off in order to extricate herself before things became awkward…

But another, much bigger part, revelled in the embrace of this handsome young man, and she couldn't stop herself dipping her head slightly to bury her nose in his hair and breathe in his wondrous scent.

She shifted again, conscious now that she needed to use the bathroom, but as she wriggled, Edward moved again and suddenly she became hyper-aware of an altogether different problem.

Edward was sporting an erection—a very large, very hard one—which was currently pressed against her thigh.

"Oh, God," she groaned, both embarrassed and fascinated… and, if the truth be known, incredibly aroused.

Embarrassed, because she was worried Edward would wake up and be mortified at her perceived impression that it was she who turned him on. Fascinated, because… well, it really did feel _enormous,_ and she was just a little curious to get a look at it.

She squirmed a little, telling herself she was just trying to make him move so she could get up. What she wasn't prepared to admit to herself right now was that she wanted to feel more of it… in fact, the urge to reach out and touch it was close to overwhelming.

Her movement, small as it was, caused Edward to mumble something incoherently against her breast—which made Bella smile—followed by a shallow thrust of his hips—which made her gasp. But her sharp intake of breath was cut off as that first movement was followed by a slow, sensuous undulation against her leg, accompanied by a long, low moan from Edward.

_Oh my God, he's humping my leg!_

Bella knew she had to stop him before things got… messy. Oh, but the feel of his massive cock rubbing up and down her thigh, so very close to the promised land, was intoxicating.

"_Belllllaaa."_ Her eyes widened like saucers as her whispered name fell from Edward's lips, his thrusts becoming more urgent.

And it was at this point that Bella knew she had to move… fast.

Wriggling her arm up between them, she put her hand on his chest and pushed, simultaneously pulling her legs away so that he released her and rolled onto his back.

Edward's eyes few open and he looked up at where Bella now stood beside the bed, her own eyes wide and an overly-bright smile plastered onto her face.

"Shit—" he started to say, but she cut him off.

"Yeah, so I was just going to make a cup of tea, and I, uh, thought I'd pop in and see if you wanted one…?" It was the thinnest of excuses, and she inwardly cringed at how ridiculous she sounded.

Edward frowned, unconvinced that she had just arrived, but too embarrassed to speculate on what might have just happened if that wasn't the case.

"Uh, yeah, that would be great, I'll give you a hand."

He started to get up, only to realise that he was sporting morning wood—something which hadn't happened in quite some time.

"Fuck… um, I'll be down in a minute… just got to… uh, use the, erm…" He trailed off, glancing towards the door, then back to her, where his eyes seemed to become transfixed on her chest.

At last, Bella seemed to become aware that she was just standing there, staring at him, her nipples like bullets, and she practically jumped on the spot, which, in turn, made Edward flinch. She was conscious that this might possibly be the single most awkward and embarrassing moment of her life.

Without another word, Bella started to turn away, only for her feet to get tangled up in her robe, which lay on the floor beside the bed.

She was about to find out that she'd so far barely mined the surface of her potential for humiliation.

What happened next took on the quality of a slow-motion segment in a bad sitcom.

With one foot sliding into the arm hole of her robe and the other into the pocket, Bella was brought up short. She lurched forward, her arms flailing, as she overbalanced and fell across the bed. Her face buried itself unerringly, and in a manner guaranteed to cause the maximum amount of embarrassment, right into Edward's groin. Her cheek slid along his rigid cock, whilst her right hand landed high on his left thigh, as Edward's eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

"_Fuuuccckk!" _he exclaimed in a pained whisper-yell.

Struggling to right herself, Bella attempted to kick the robe away from her feet, whilst her hand, seemingly of its own accord, squeezed Edward's thigh harder, and his cock twitched alarmingly against her face as she squirmed in his lap.

"Bella, please… oh, Jesus, you have to stop moving." He sounded like he was going to cry, as he gripped her shoulders and pushed down, forcing her face away from his tortured dick.

Bella finally managed to scramble off the bed, toppling inelegantly in a heap on the floor, where her robe still lay, now so innocent and inanimate. She grabbed the offending article and angrily pulled it on, her face so hot, she was pretty sure she could fry eggs on it. She was tempted to literally crawl out of the room on her hands and knees but was aware that, not only would that make her look even more of a fool, but would also present Edward with a view she wasn't keen to provide him with—especially in view of his current… _situation._

Suppressing a groan, she got up, muttered a barely audible apology, and practically ran out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

As she flew down the passage to her room, she once again became aware of her aching nipples, which were straining against the thin material of her camisole like organ stops.

And she didn't even want to think about the wetness between her legs!

A few minutes later, Edward stood in the shower, one hand splayed out against the tiled wall, whilst he took himself firmly in his other hand. It was a long time since he'd wanted, or even thought about, sex, and knew he'd never been this aroused in his life. With the hot water cascading down across his pale skin, he set up a rhythmic motion, stroking along his length from base to tip and circling the sensitive head with his thumb. All the while, images of a naked Bella, kneeling between his legs with his cock in her mouth, flickered through his mind like a nickelodeon picture show, until, with a grunted expletive, he climaxed explosively against the wall.

He stared with a kind of detached fascination as the thick, opalescent emission ran down the tiles, to be washed away by the steamy downpour of the shower. Shaking himself, as if awakening from a dream, he pushed away from the wall and reached for the shampoo.

He drew out his ablutions for as long as possible, further delaying the moment when he had to leave the sanctuary of his room by taking his time picking out his outfit for the day. He couldn't stop mulling over the events of the morning, desperately looking for a tangible clue to tell him what had been real and what had been a dream. That is, up to the point where Bella face-planted into his lap.

By the time he had dressed and made his way downstairs, Edward was still none the wiser. However, even more so than Bella's epic nose dive, the memory, no matter how illusory, of holding Bella in his arms, was impossible to dispel, especially as he could even recall her scent and the softness of her skin.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, willing himself to stop thinking about how it had felt to have her hand on his leg, and her face rubbing against his cock, even through the bedclothes. He was utterly mortified at how his body had reacted to her proximity, and, much worse, Bella had very obviously and understandably been horrified. He dreaded having to confront her, but knew there was no avoiding it.

So preoccupied was he with thoughts of his roadside saviour, that, on entering the kitchen, he was surprised to see her standing in front of the hob, brandishing a spatula and singing softly along to the radio.

He leaned against the door-jamb and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. After a moment, Bella stopped singing and put the spatula down, resting both hands on either side of the cooker and dropping her head.

Edward frowned, recognising the defeat in her posture and assuming he was the cause. He had to make this right, but he had no idea how. Just a couple of days ago, he had been so determined to get to Bristol, even knowing there was unlikely to be any more for him there than in London. Now, though, he knew that, even if there hadn't been such a heavy snowfall, he wouldn't want to leave this place… leave Bella.

But after what had happened last night, and, even worse, this morning, he knew she would probably feel way too awkward and embarrassed having him around, and it was inevitable she would want him to leave.

He recalled the evening before, shared with Alice and Jasper; he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself so much—if, indeed, he ever had—and he wanted more of that. His mind went to the odd moment in the kitchen, when Bella had told him over and over that he was good-looking… did she really think that, or was she just being kind? Was she attracted to him? Could a woman as beautiful and talented—and wealthy—as Bella want someone like him?

He shook his head, internally berating himself. He was being ridiculous. The Bella Swans of this world weren't interested in useless nobodies like him. She could have her pick of men—although judging by that bruise on her face, which he'd seen more clearly this morning without the camouflage of make-up, she wasn't very good at picking good ones. Regardless, she was never going to pick him. He almost laughed at himself when he thought of all the men out there who were better qualified for the role of boyfriend—men her own age or older… men who had money, were well-educated, with good jobs, and who were from the same social strata.

He sighed in resignation, and Bella's head immediately came up as she realised he was behind her.

She took a deep breath, and he watched as she seemed to straighten her spine and square her shoulders.

_This is it, she's going to tell me I have to leave, regardless of the weather, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. Shit, shit, shit. _

He tried to prepare himself, knowing that there was little which would soften the blow. He dropped his head so he wouldn't have to see the anger and contempt in her eyes when she ordered him to pack his bag and get out.

Bella turned, having finally made up her mind, unsurprised to find Edward standing in the doorway, but shocked to see him looking so utterly… _cowed._

She sighed. _Say something, you moron. Just put the whole debacle of this morning out of your mind and bloody say what needs to be said._

She opened her mouth to speak, but, despite her inner pep talk, she immediately felt a wretched blush consume her face. She clenched her fists where they hung by her side, and forced herself to look him in the eye as his head came up to meet her gaze.

"Edward, we need to talk."

_Ahh, fuck!_


	7. Understanding

**Chapter 7 ~ Understanding  
**

Edward raised his eyes to Bella's and frowned, a hand instinctively running nervously through his long hair.

_You think we should talk? Ah shit, nothing good ever came from that statement, especially from a woman._

He took a deep breath and shook his head.

"Look, why don't I just save you the trouble. As soon as the snow melts enough for me to get a bus or something, I'll be on my way. I'm really grateful for what you've done, and I'm not going to cause any troub—"

"_What?!_ What are you talking about? On your way where?"

"Well, I assume you want me to go… after last night and… uh, this morning…" He trailed off as Bella's blush reignited and she held a hand up, palm towards him, as if to ward off his words.

"Okay, stop, please. I would be very grateful if we could just draw a line through this morning and try very hard to forget it ever happened. Okay?"

She could barely look at him, but glanced up from beneath her lashes to see him nod.

He was too taken aback to speak, barely able to hope that Bella might be offering him a reprieve. If she was happy to overlook this morning's debacle, then he certainly was—although he doubted he would ever be able to forget how it felt to have her face… _right there._ That image could well fuel his fantasies for some time to come.

"Good… right… well, let's sit down, because we _do_ need to talk about what happened last night. There's tea in the pot, do you want a cup?"

Again, Edward nodded, resigned, then walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. He kept his gaze fixed on the view from the window, through which a grey, wintery light cast an eerie glow, as the snow continued to fall. He didn't even look round when Bella put a steaming mug of tea down in front of him. He mumbled a soft 'thanks' and pulled the sugar bowl over, shovelling two heaped spoonfuls into his drink, before lifting it to his lips and taking a sip.

On the opposite side of the table, Bella cupped her hands round her own mug and drank deeply. After a minute or two of somewhat uncomfortable silence, she put her cup down rested her elbows on the table, and clasped her hands under her chin.

"So, Edward, about last night—"

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. I can sleep on the sofa so I don't disturb you—" He dropped his head, cringing internally.

Bella unclasped her hands and reached one out to cover Edward's hand where he'd fisted it on the table.

"It's okay, Edward… please don't think I'm angry with you, because I'm not."

Cautiously, he glanced up at her. "You're not?"

Bella sighed, pulling her hand away and sitting back.

"Of course I'm not angry—why would I be? You have nightmares, over which you have no control. I'm not angry, but I _am_ concerned. I don't know what happened to you, but clearly it was something terrifying and deep-rooted. And I'm starting to think it may be connected to the reason why you were trying to hitch a lift on the coldest night in living memory, for which you were woefully under-prepared."

She cocked her head to one side, a question implicit in her gaze.

Edward picked up his tea and took a drink, his mind a veritable storm of emotions: relief, chagrin, sorrow… fear.

Bella knew he was procrastinating, but didn't push. She could see that he was struggling with what to tell her… she just hoped he would be able to tell her _something._

Putting down his mug, he started rubbing at a knot in the pine table with his forefinger, his brow knitted and lips pouted. A couple of times, he took a deep breath and glanced up at Bella through his lashes, but just as she thought he was going to speak, he dropped his gaze to the table again, his frown deepening.

After several minutes of this agonised silence, Bella let out a sigh.

"Hey, I'm starving. How about I finish cooking breakfast while you check to see if the fire's still going. You'll need to clean out the grate by shovelling the ash into the bucket, and then you can start building it up again—do you think you can do that?"

"Uh, yeah, I s'pose," he nodded, looking vastly relieved.

"Okay, I'll call you when breakfast is ready."

He pushed back his chair and practically ran out of the kitchen, leaving Bella to shake her head in resignation, before getting up to switch the hob back on and continue with cooking the sausages and bacon she'd started earlier.

In the sitting room, Edward knelt in front of the fire, grabbed the poker from the hearth, and poked at the grate the way he'd seen Bella do. The fire was out, although the coals were still warm, and he quickly shovelled the ashes into the bucket. He then re-laid the fire with kindling from the big log basket, again copying Bella's method, and then lit the twists of paper. Sitting back on his haunches, he watched as the flame stuttered, caught the next bit of paper and then crept up around the dry sticks, which quickly started to burn. He grinned with delight as the fire really began to take hold and spread, licking around the rest of the paper and twigs. He rummaged in the basket for a couple of smaller logs and placed them carefully on top of the flames, cursing and pulling back as they flickered around his hand.

He ignored the slight burn, staring in awe at the rapidly building fire, impressed with himself that he'd managed to light it successfully—that he had, in fact, done something important for Bella… something to help.

As he gazed contemplatively into the escalating flames, he knew for sure that he didn't want to leave this place. He also knew that if he was going to stay, he would have to talk to Bella… would have to explain at least a little of what had brought him to that motorway service station, and what haunted him in his sleep. It hadn't escaped him that she had said nightmares—plural—and he was pretty sure that she had come to him the first night as well. He thought he'd dreamed that, thought the angel who had comforted him had been something his subconscious had invented to protect him. Now he suspected it had been Bella—although the description still stood, as far as he was concerned.

Bella _was_ an angel—his guardian angel—and he had no doubt at all that she had saved his life. The least he owed her in return was an explanation.

He sighed, refocusing on the fire, which was now burning swiftly through the small logs he'd put on it. Getting up, he grabbed the coal scuttle and carefully shook the remainder into the grate. He then picked up the ash bucket and carried it, along with the scuttle, back to the kitchen. He needed to go to the basement to replenish the coal, and find out what to do with the ashes.

As he walked in, the delicious smell of bacon, sausage and toast assaulted his nose and his mouth immediately started to water.

"Oh, God, that smells incredible," he groaned, putting down the buckets by the basement door.

Bella turned and smiled at him. "Perfect timing, I'm just dishing up. I've made a fresh pot of tea, so can you pour it out, please."

Moments later, they sat opposite each other again, but this time with big plates laden with food, which they wasted no time tucking into. Edward was pretty sure he had eaten more in the last couple of days than he had in the whole of the preceding week, and he savoured every tasty morsel.

Bella couldn't help chuckling as he groaned and hummed his way through the food, slathering butter on his toast and using it to soak up the perfectly runny fried eggs.

"I like a man who enjoys his food," she laughed.

"Ummmm, and I love a woman who can cook a fucking amazing breakfast," he mumbled around a mouthful of sausage.

She snorted, and he suddenly stopped chewing, looking up at her with a startled expression. Swallowing awkwardly, he put his fork down and put his hand to his mouth.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry… fuck… oh for fu-flip's sake. Sorry, sorry…" He trailed off, and, dropping his knife now as well, put both hands over his face and rubbed it hard.

Bella couldn't stop giggling, which then turned to coughing as she tried to swallow the food she'd been chewing. She dropped her own cutlery and picked up her tea, taking several sips until she'd got herself under control.

Smirking at Edward, who had now dropped his hands and was frowning at her, she shook her head.

"For flip's sake? Really? Don't worry about it—I take it as a compliment that my humble effort would evoke such… vehement praise!"

She watched as his lips were pulled into a slow, slightly crooked smile, which lit up his face, and she was hard-pressed not to gasp at the transformation.

_Oh, good God, how does he do that? He's, like, adorable and sweet, and hot as fuck, all at the same time!_

Bella jumped up and started clearing the table, intent on hiding the blush which she could feel creeping up her neck and face.

"So, uh, did you get the fire going?" she asked, as she started loading the dishwasher.

Edward grinned and launched into an enthusiastic description of his earlier success in the sitting room, making Bella smile.

"That's great, Edward, thank you. Why don't we get refills and go sit by the fire. I know you're not comfortable talking to me about what happened to you, but I'd like to have a chat anyway, just about what we need to do over the next few days. Is that okay?"

He stood up and leaned against the edge of the table, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Bella… look, I _do_ want to tell you… it's just really difficult to… talk about it."

He dropped his gaze and stared at his shoes—shoes which Bella had purchased for him. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he took a deep breath and looked up.

"Edward, it's fine, honestly. I don't want to force you into something you're not ready for. I mean, we hardly know one another, so I understand, really I do. Let's just make ourselves comfortable so we can make some plans—I know I kind of sprang it on you last night, but I really would like your help with a few things, if you'd be willing?"

He let out the breath he was holding. "Sure, of course. Sorry, I just… I don't know how to do this…"

Bella pushed away from the sink and came over to stand in front of him, placing a hand gently on his upper arm.

"It's okay, Edward, this is all a bit new for me too—I hope you don't think I make a habit of picking up young men and enticing them back to my lair!"

He laughed, and the ease they'd found the day before immediately returned.

Smiling, Bella turned to retrieve her tea from the worktop and then headed out to the sitting room.

"Come on, let's have a look at that fire you say you lit," she smirked.

**~o0o~**

Not only was the fire lit, but it was burning brightly and giving off plenty of heat. Bella sat cross-legged on the sofa, whilst Edward sat opposite in one of the big wing-backed armchairs, his long, long legs sprawled out in front of him.

"So, you want to turn the back bedroom into a studio. Will there be enough light?" he asked, in response to Bella's description of what she wanted.

"I think so—the back is south-facing, so it should get the best of the light through the day and the eaves aren't so low on that side. I think the cottage is a Listed building*, so I probably won't be able to do much about the windows, but if the room is stripped out and painted white, I'm sure it will be fine. I can have my drawing board in there, plus there's plenty of room to fit a decent-sized workstation for my computer and, once the bed's gone, I could get a really nice sofa in there—maybe a sofa bed in case I need to use it as a guest room. What do you think? Are you any good at putting shelves up?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I can put a shelf up, if you've got the tools and materials. I had to learn how to do all that stuff for my mum…"

He trailed off and looked at the fire. "Anyway, we need to clear the room out first, so we should go up and have a proper look to see what needs to be done. We're a bit limited until we can get out to a D-I-Y* store."

Bella nodded and stood up. She hadn't missed that first reference to his home life, but could see that this wasn't the time to press.

"Come on, then, let's take a look and see what's what."

She led the way upstairs, and Edward tried hard not to look at her jean-clad bottom, as it swayed hypnotically in front of him—whether or not he tried hard _enough_ was debatable, because he failed utterly.

Following Bella into the room she had earmarked as her studio, he was brought up short as he walked straight into her, where she had stopped just inside the door. He immediately reached out and grabbed her around the waist to prevent her toppling forward, which had the effect of pressing her back against him.

Instinctively, he dipped his head and breathed in her scent.

_God Almighty, she smells fucking amazing._

As for Bella, she could feel him everywhere, and where his big hands almost circled her slender waist, heat radiated out to every part of her. She knew she should pull away, but couldn't seem to make herself move. Time seemed to stand still, seconds stretching out like elastic, until, finally, it was Edward who dropped his hands and stepped back.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"S'okay," Bella replied, shivering slightly.

"We're gonna need boxes… uh, I think I saw some in the basement… I'll just go have a look," he gabbled, before turning and rushing out the door.

Bella heard his rapid footfalls on the stairs and walked quickly over to the window, where she pressed a glowing cheek against the cold glass.

_What the hell?! This is getting ridiculous._

Bella gave herself a mental shake and turned away from the window. She was not going to let this… whatever the bloody hell _it_ was, take hold of her. Edward was substantially younger, he was, to all intents and purposes, a homeless itinerant, and he was never going to think of her _that_ way—he was grateful to her, that was all. Telling herself to grow up, she refocused her mind—albeit with some difficulty—on the task at hand.

Looking around, she started trying to visualise the room without the bed and other furniture, working out in her mind's eye where she should put her drawing board and computer. This thought led on to the much more unpleasant one, of how she would go about retrieving these bulkier possessions. She had gathered up all her artwork and put it in her portfolio, which was still sitting in the hall downstairs. She also had her laptop and a draft of her latest manuscript on a flash-drive, so maybe she could just buy a new PC and drawing board. She still had a hard time getting used to the fact that, after a lifetime of penury, she could actually afford to buy something if she wanted it.

With that thought in mind, Bella made the decision that there was nothing at Jake's that she needed to go back for, and immediately felt lighter, as if a burden she'd been unaware she was carrying had suddenly fallen away. She realised at that moment that, even though she'd escaped in one piece—more or less—she had, on some level, been terrified of having to confront Jake again, but now she could put it all behind her and move on.

Without warning, Bella felt laughter bubbling up inside of her, and before she knew it, she was giggling like a fool. She hugged herself, embracing this new and rather foreign feeling of… freedom. Not just from the fear she'd harboured over the last few months with Jake, but from a lifetime of heartache and worry—from the grief she'd felt after losing her parents, to the constant and debilitating anxiety about money.

The more she thought about it, the more she laughed. She was struck by the whole incongruity of her epiphany, here in this shabby bedroom, sitting on a threadbare and uncomfortable chair in her dead grandmother's house. Tears rolled down her face as she rocked back and forth, trying to contain what was beginning to morph into hysteria.

Thus, Edward found her, his arms full of flat-packed cardboard boxes.

"Bella? Jesus, are you okay?" He took in her maniacal laughter, her wild, tear-filled eyes and her desperate swaying, and immediately realised that something was very much amiss.

Dropping the boxes he strode over to where she sat and dropped to his knees in front of her. He grabbed her shoulders, and peered intently at her as she continued to half-laugh and half-sob, her eyes like saucers.

"Bella, you're scaring me. What's happened?" he demanded, his voice edged with concern.

"I c-can't… I d-don't know… oh G-God, Edward… c-could you hold me… please?" This last came out as barely a whisper, but he heard it and didn't hesitate. Pulling her towards him, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, feeling, for the first time, like he could finally repay, in some small measure, the debt he owed Bella.

He held her against his body, rocking her gently, until she stopped hugging herself and put her arms around his waist.

"It's okay, Bella… shhh…I've got you," he crooned softly.

Her grip on him tightened as, in a blinding moment of clarity, she knew this to be true.

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

Listed building – In the UK, many buildings of historical or architectural importance are placed on a Local Government list, which means they can't be demolished, extended or drastically altered without specific written permission from the local planning authority.  
D-I-Y Store – Do It Yourself: Where you can buy anything to do with home-improvements, garden supplies, etc.


	8. Confessions

**WARNING: The following chapter contains a description of excessive domestic violence, so please proceed with caution**

* * *

**Chapter 8 ~ Confessions**

Edward and Bella sat on the bed—Bella with her back against the headboard, knees pulled up and arms wrapped around her legs, whilst Edward faced her, cross-legged, at the opposite end.

Resting her cheek on her knees, Bella was silent for so long, Edward wondered if she was going to say anything at all about her apparent meltdown. He wanted to ask her what the hell had just happened, but knew he owed her the same courtesy she had afforded him when she refused to press him earlier that morning. So, he sat and waited, giving her the time she needed.

Taking a deep breath, Bella lifted her head and looked directly at Edward. _Really _looked at him. He was so young, and he carried so much sorrow, so much hurt around with him. And yet here he was, giving her comfort. And such comfort it was, too. Bella couldn't ever recall feeling so safe, so at peace, as she had in Edward's arms. It was a remarkable sensation, and one which, if she was honest, she wanted to experience again.

Their eyes remained locked across the short distance, making her feel stripped bare—not in a sexual way, but emotionally—and she knew that she wanted him to know about her… to know _her._

She unwrapped one arm from around her knees and lifted her fingers to her bruised cheek. The swelling had almost gone, but it was still a little tender, and she knew that it was taking on a decidedly Technicolor hue.

"My boyfriend—_ex_-boyfriend now—well, as I'm sure you've worked out for yourself, he hit me. This…" she said, twirling her hand vaguely in the air beside her face, "…wasn't the first time, but it was the worst. I'm pretty sure that, if I stayed with him, he'd eventually break me beyond repair. So I ran. What you saw earlier? That was… shit, I'm not even quite sure what it was, but I think it was relief. He's out of my life, hopefully forever."

She gave him a watery smile, knowing that he probably thought her pathetic for having stayed with a man who abused her. She was pretty sure he'd be right.

However, what Edward said next utterly confounded her expectations.

Eyes blazing green fire, and that amazing jaw clenched tightly, his voice was low… soft even, but no less full of ferocious intent.

"He'd better be out of your life because, if he ever comes near you again, I'll fucking kill him," he hissed.

Bella's eyes widened in surprise. There was so much in that brief statement that she needed to get her head around—not just the direct and unambiguous threat to Jake, but also, implicit in what he'd said, the suggestion that he would be remaining in her life long enough to follow through.

As she processed this radical idea, she knew that she would move heaven and earth to make sure that it was, indeed, the case.

Refocusing her attention on Edward, she noticed that he was looking down, plucking absently at the bedspread.

Releasing her legs, she put her hands down on the bed and shuffled across the mattress on her bottom. When she was just a couple of feet from where Edward sat, she stopped and dipped her head in order to catch his eye.

He looked up, regarding her with such intensity, she could feel his gaze heat her skin. Nevertheless, she found it impossible to turn away.

Tentatively, she raised her hand, holding it out for him to take. With some difficulty, he dragged his eyes from hers and looked at her hand for a moment, before mirroring Bella's gesture and taking hold of her fingers.

She smiled, feeling the warmth of his touch all the way up her arm, as if he were radiating heat.

"Thank you, Edward… for being here. I…" She paused, watching as he swept his thumb lightly across the back of her hand. Then, as if they were symbiotically linked, they both looked up at the same time and exchanged shy smiles. "Will you stay awhile?" she asked softly, and they both knew she wasn't talking about right that moment.

His smile lit his face, and prompted an answering smile from Bella.

"I'll stay until you tell me to go," he replied.

Her face split into a wide grin. "Well, in that case, we can start talking about my plans for the garden!"

**~o0o~**

Early evening found Edward in the kitchen, preparing dinner. He and Bella had spent the morning and most of the afternoon clearing the back bedroom, filling boxes and taking them down to the basement. By mutual agreement, they had decided they had talked enough for one morning, and had immediately got stuck into Bella's project. Tired but satisfied with their day's work, they had called time just after five o'clock and gone to their rooms to wash off the dust and dirt.

When Bella eventually came downstairs, Edward was busy in the kitchen. However, when she went to help him, he'd told her in no uncertain terms to take herself off to the sitting room and watch the telly or read a book.

"What? Don't be silly, Edward. I can get the dinner."

He put down the knife he'd been using to slice potatoes, went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine. "Absolutely not, I'm doing dinner, and you're going to sit down and relax. Now, take this glass of wine and let me get on." He scowled menacingly at Bella, making her laugh.

"Come on, Edward, you don't have to do this."

He sighed and put down the glass he'd been holding out to her.

"Bella, please, let me do this for you. I promise I won't poison you or burn the house down. You liked my spaghetti Bolognese, didn't you?"

He stood looking at her with such a cute puppy-dog look on his face, that she couldn't say no to him—and the thought crossed her mind, fleetingly, that such a look might get her into trouble, if she wasn't careful.

She held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, have it your own way. I'll go… but shout if you want me to do anything."

She took the glass of wine he'd poured and left him to it. Heading into the sitting room, she assumed she would need to build the fire up again, but it seemed Edward had taken care of that as well, and there was a veritable inferno blazing away in the grate. Setting down her glass on the coffee table, she went to browse through the books on the shelves beside the fire. Nothing grabbed her attention, so she went upstairs to get her laptop, bringing it down and setting it up on the bureau.

Life at home with Jake over the last few months had not been conducive to her creativity, and her second book was just not working. But maybe, now that she was free of his malign presence, she might be able to make something of what she'd written so far. Retrieving her flash-drive from her bag, she fired up the computer and inserted the small plastic device.

Reading through the little she'd so far managed to produce, she realised that, although there was the kernel of a good idea, the writing was bland, formulaic and utterly uninspiring. It simply wouldn't do, and she knew her editor would be hugely disappointed if she sent this to him.

She sat back and took a moment to think about her characters and the plot, reading through her story outline, in the hope of gaining inspriration. As she did, the words started to flow into her mind, almost too quickly for her to process them. Immediately, she opened a new document and started typing, her fingers flying over the keyboard, as ideas, words, phrases and whole plot devices tumbled headlong into her head and, simultaneously, found their way onto the screen.

Bella smiled to herself, feeling empowered by this extraordinary and very welcome creative surge. She had always loved to write, and had rarely found it onerous—at least, not until recently—but this was different. It was as if her mind had taken off and was flying high above the landscape, giving her this perfect, panoramic view of everything she needed to see and describe. Her fingers could barely keep up with her thoughts, as she rushed to give them substance and form.

It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and utterly absorbing.

She lost complete track of time—she didn't hear Edward call her from the kitchen; she didn't hear when he came to the sitting room door; and she was completely oblivious as he stood watching her for several minutes, before quietly withdrawing to the kitchen, where he put the dinner on a low heat to keep it warm.

He didn't want to disturb Bella, but he had a strong compulsion to be near her, so he retrieved his book from his room and then collected his wine from the kitchen, creeping silently into the sitting room. Bella didn't look up, so he quickly settled himself into his favourite armchair and began to read. He found the rapid click of the keyboard oddly soothing, and was suddenly overtaken by the simple, cosy domesticity of the moment. It was something he'd only rarely—and fleetingly—experienced, and it warmed his heart, just as much as the fire warmed his skin.

In this way, they passed a comfortable hour, until, without warning, Bella's stomach made a loud gurgling sound.

Edward dropped his book onto his lap and chuckled, which in turn elicited a cry of surprise from Bella, who swivelled round on her chair to look accusingly at him.

"Jesus Christ, Edward, where did you pop up from?!" she gasped, clutching at her heart.

Grinning, he stood up and walked over to her.

"I've been here for ages…" he bent to peer at the clock on her computer, "… about an hour, in fact."

Bella glanced down at her watch, her eyes widening with surprise when she saw that it had gone eight o'clock.

"Oh my God, why didn't you tell me? No wonder I'm hungry!"

"You were so engrossed and typing like a fiend, I didn't want to disturb you. But it sounds like you're ready to eat, so I'll go and dish it up. Do you want to eat in the dining room or the kitchen?"

"Oh, uh, the kitchen's fine, it'll be warmer—what did you make? It won't be ruined, will it? You should have said something, Edward; you must be starving." She felt terrible for keeping him waiting.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Bella, I've gone days without eating in the past, one extra hour is not going to kill me, especially after that giant breakfast you cooked this morning."

Bella stared up at him, her heart breaking a little. "You've gone without food for _days?_ Oh, Edward, that's… God, I don't know what to say… that's just awful." Without thinking, she reached out and took hold of his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He frowned. "It's no big deal, Bella, please don't feel sorry for me… I…" He sighed and lifted his gaze to the wall above her head. "Come on, let's have dinner before it spoils."

He pulled his hand from hers and walked out to the kitchen, leaving Bella sitting at her desk, cursing herself for being an idiot. After a few minutes, she shook her head in resignation and turned back to save her work, before picking up her wine glass and following Edward into the kitchen.

Walking in, she found him setting two plates of food on the table, which was set with placemats and cutlery.

"Oh, my God, Edward, it smells fantastic in here," she gasped.

He looked up at her and grinned, their awkward moment in the sitting room seemingly forgotten.

"Sit down, I'll just get the veg. It's a little overcooked, but I think it'll be okay."

She walked over to the table and pulled out her chair, gazing in wonder at the food in front of her. As she sat down, Edward came back over with a large dish of broccoli and carrots, glistening with butter, which he set down next to another dish of what looked like baked sliced potatoes.

Opening the fridge, he grabbed the bottle of wine and refreshed their glasses, then sat down opposite Bella.

"Tuck in, then. It's nothing special, just chicken breasts in a mustard and white wine sauce, with Dauphinoise potatoes and vegetables. The broccoli's a bit overdone, but the rest of it's okay, I think."

"It all looks—and smells—amazing. It's just… wow!" She reached for the vegetables, helping herself to both, and then scooped a large spoonful of the creamy potatoes onto her plate.

Cutting a piece of chicken, she gathered up some of the potatoes and put the food in her mouth. As soon as she started to chew, she closed her eyes in near ecstasy and let out a loud, almost wanton moan.

Opposite her, Edward just stared, his mouth dropping open slightly, as he spread his legs to accommodate the bulge which had suddenly developed in his jeans.

Bella opened her eyes and smiled. "Oh God, Edward, this is absolutely fantastic. Where the hell did you learn to cook like this?" She wasted no time in shovelling more of the delicious food into her mouth.

Broken out of his reverie, and doing his best to ignore the ache between his legs, Edward looked down at his plate and then back up at Bella.

"Uh, well, I'm glad you like it. It's nothing special. I, uh, used all the cream, so I hope you didn't buy it for something in particular. Sorry, I should have asked first."

"Are you kidding me?! If you cook stuff like this with it, you can use anything and everything you find in this house. And you didn't answer my question. Who taught you to cook like this? Was it your mum?"

He shook his head, staring now at his food. "Could we maybe eat dinner and talk after?" he asked in a soft, hesitant voice. He glanced up at her and the look on his face was so vulnerable… so _haunted_, that Bella couldn't find it in her heart to press him further.

"Of course, let's eat. This is way too good to let it spoil." She smiled encouragingly at him, and resumed eating. A moment later, he followed suit.

"So, anyway, I'm sorry I kept you waiting for dinner, but, honest to God, Edward, it was incredible. I've been struggling for months with my second book… you know, the _'difficult second album'_ thing. I wasn't even intending to write anything, but I just decided to look through what I'd written so far, and, well, it was just total bollocks,* but then I started getting ideas and it just… oh God, Edward, it just poured out of me."

She looked up at him, grinning with delight as she chewed on a piece of chicken, and he couldn't help but return her smile. It was great to see her so enthusiastic—she'd obviously been through a lot, and he wasn't surprised she'd been unable to write, but now she was here in this beautiful place, and it had obviously unleashed her creative juices.

And then he thought about other juices that might be unleashed, and could barely suppress an audible groan.

Fortunately, Bella didn't seem to notice, scraping the last of her food onto her fork and transferring it to her mouth. As her lips closed around the tines, she gave another soft moan of satisfaction, and grinned at Edward.

With difficulty, he pulled his gaze away from her pouty lips and put his cutlery down.

"Finished?" she asked, before standing up and stacking their two plates one on top of the other. "Okay, let's get these into the dishwasher, wash up the pans and make some coffee."

Edward was beyond glad that Bella was taking the lead with clearing up, as there was no way he could stand up just yet.

Twenty minutes later, Bella carried a tray into the sitting room, on which was a large cafetiere* of coffee, two mugs and a plate of thick, round, butter shortbread biscuits. Edward followed behind with a bottle of Baileys, which Bella insisted was much better in coffee than cream.

After building the fire back up, they settled down in front of it and she poured the coffee into two bone china mugs, then added the creamy liqueur. Handing one to Edward, who had taken what had become his usual spot on the chair by the fire, Bella got comfortable on the sofa, and picked up a biscuit.

"Bloody hell, this is really good," Edward exclaimed, after he took his first sip.

"Baileys was made for coffee, if you ask me," she chuckled, taking a large slug of her own drink.

For a while, they sat in relative silence—just the crackle of the fire, accompanied by the sound of them sipping their drinks and the crunch of biscuits.

After about five minutes, Edward looked up and drew in a heavy breath, causing Bella to glance over at him expectantly.

"So, I, uh, promised myself that if you let me stay, I would tell you… uh…" He trailed off, and reached over to set his cup down on the old naval chest which served as a TV stand.

Bella lowered her cup and rested it on her thigh. "You don't have to tell me, Edward, not if you really don't want to."

"No, I do… I mean, I owe you that much, Bella. It's just so hard to talk about. I haven't… well, I've never really told anyone about… what happened."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and rubbing his face with both hands. When he lowered them, clasping them in front of him, Bella noticed a new, somewhat steely determination in his eyes.

"The truth is, my mum's dead… she was murdered… and I watched it happen and did nothing. I just… well, I just fucking ran. I'm a fucking coward, Bella, and the guy who killed her is still out there—_fuck_…"

Once again he put his hands over his face, but this time it was to try and hold back the sob which exploded out of him. Shoulders shaking, he slid off the chair and onto his knees, weeping.

Bella leapt up from the sofa and quickly made her way around the coffee table, pushing it back and dropping to her knees in front of Edward. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his shaking body, offering him exactly the same comfort he'd given her that very morning.

She had no words for him—nothing in her life up to this point had equipped her for dealing with such an extraordinary situation, and she couldn't bear to trot out the usual platitudes in the face of such a horrifying revelation.

So, she simply held him, rubbing his back and stroking his hair, just as she'd done last night. She could feel his warm breath on her skin as he nuzzled his face into her neck and, just like the previous night, she mentally chastised herself for thinking lascivious thoughts at such a time.

His sobbing now under control, a real calmness settled over him, much like when Bella had held him in the early hours of the morning. However, when Bella attempted to pull away, he initially tightened his hold, desperate to prolong the moment.

"Edward? Hey, come on, sweetie, let a girl breathe," she joked, trying to lighten the moment. She felt him relax his death grip, and moved back, although she kept her hands on his shoulders.

"Sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse from crying.

"Hey, none of that," Bella responded softly, slipping one hand up to the back of his neck, where she gently stroked the skin there with her thumb. Her heart broke for him, as she took in his red-rimmed and sorrowful eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it, sweetie? You don't have to if you don't want to—at least, not right now—but I'm guessing you're going to have to talk about it with someone, because it's clearly eating you alive. Are you sure that that's what you saw?"

He nodded, but didn't answer at first.

"Look, my knees are killing me… let's get another drink and sit on the sofa." Bella let go of Edward and pushed herself up. She quickly went to the kitchen, grabbed the wine from the fridge and two clean glasses, before heading back to the sitting room. When she found Edward in the exact same position, she put down the bottle and glasses and held her hand out to him.

At first, she wasn't sure if he'd noticed, but then he raised his eyes to look at her outstretched arm, and then panned up to meet her gaze. He could see no judgement there, no disbelief… only compassion and warmth.

He finally took her hand, allowing her to pull him to his feet and guide him to the sofa. She poured the wine and sat down, patting the space beside her until he joined her. Picking up his glass from the table, Bella handed it to him, taking a sip of her own drink and urging him to do the same.

"Okay, that's better. Now, do you feel like telling me what happened? You don't have to go into detail, but I'd like to know. Maybe I can help. At the very least, you'll probably feel better if you can just share it with me—I think this has been far too great a burden for you to have shouldered, especially as I've got a horrible feeling you must have been quite young when it happened."

She reached out and put her hand on his forearm, hoping it would give him courage, as well as comfort.

Edward sat mute, neither moving nor acknowledging Bella's statement. In fact, so long did he remain silent and unmoving, staring sightlessly into his drink, that she wondered if he'd heard her at all, or even felt her touch.

"Edward?" She moved her hand down his arm and gently eased the glass out of his vice-like grip, which threatened to snap the stem. In the end, he relinquished it without a fight, and she put it on the table, along with her own. She then sat back and took both his hands in hers, giving them a little squeeze.

And it was this which finally seemed to break the spell.

He looked up at her at last, his eyes a little wild and full of such pain it made her hitch her breath. She could feel a lump rising in her throat, and fought against the strong urge to cry, wanting to be strong for him.

"She was such a stupid bitch!" he exclaimed suddenly, his voice rasping and full of bitterness. As Bella reeled back in surprise, he pulled his hands free and leapt to his feet, striding around the coffee table and pacing back and forth on the other side. With his hands buried in his thick, multi-coloured hair, his face was a mixture of anger and pain.

"You wanna know how old she was when she had me? Fifteen… fucking _fifteen!_ And you know what? She didn't even know who my dad was. She was a stupid fucking slut, who got knocked up at fifteen, was an alcoholic at sixteen, and fucked any man who would give her the time of day. How the fuck she didn't have more kids than me, I'll never know, but she was pregnant when she died, by a piece of shit guy who beat the crap out of her every other day. But even when he broke her jaw and cracked her ribs, she wouldn't tell him to piss off, and then she let herself get knocked up by him, and he fucking killed her."

Edward's voice broke as he finished his rant, and now he just stood still at the end of the couch. He was breathing hard, his arms hanging by his side and his fists clenched.

Bella stared at him, not sure what to say. This was not what she had expected at all, and she was utterly taken aback by his anger.

"Wh-what happened?" she ventured, wondering if he would tell her, or whether he would shut down after such an emotional outburst.

His shoulders slumped and he dropped down onto the opposite end of the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. After a long moment, he dropped his hands and clasped them in front of him, turning his head to look back at Bella.

He started speaking again, but, in a complete _volte-face_, this time his voice was stripped of all emotion.

"They'd been arguing the night before. Mum and Paul. He was a big bastard—he'd hit me before and laid me out. I was fifteen and your archetypal seven stone weakling*… short and skinny and completely shit-scared of guys like Paul. Christ, he was just the last in a long line of bullies and benefits scroungers.* Anyway, she'd told him she was pregnant, and he wanted her to get rid of it. They were screaming at each other and I just had to get out of there. I went over to my mate Mike's house—he was used to me hanging out there when Mum got into it with Paul. I knew I should stay, but… I don't know, I guess part of me was scared for myself, but another part…"

He took a deep breath and stared into the fire for a moment, before turning back and gazing intently at Bella.

"Part of me was angry with her. Like… oh, fuck, I don't know… like she'd brought it on herself and deserved to suffer."

He looked away again, but not before Bella recognised the look in his eyes—shame, embarrassment… guilt. She knew because she'd seen the same emotions when she'd looked in the mirror after Jake had hit her, even though, on an intellectual level, she knew she shouldn't feel any of those things.

"It's okay, Edward, I do understand. Go on," she said encouragingly. She slid his wine across the table towards him.

He sighed, and ran a hand nervously through his hair again.

"I couldn't sleep… I felt guilty about leaving Mum on her own with that bastard. And Mike was snoring like a fucking pneumatic drill, so I just got up and decided to go home. It must have been about two o'clock in the morning, and all the lights were off. I crept upstairs, not wanting to wake them, but I needn't have worried. I could fucking hear them from halfway up, going at it like fucking rabbits… like they hadn't been screaming blue murder just a few hours earlier. Christ Almighty, I just could never understand how she could do that; it made me sick to my stomach.

"So I just went to bed. I doubt they heard me come in, and luckily, they finished soon after that, so I didn't have to stick my earphones in for long.

"Then, the next morning I didn't wake up until late, and probably only then because of the shouting. Jesus, they were fucking relentless. I know Mum pushed his buttons—I have no idea why, when it generally ended up with her getting punched in the face, the stupid cow. But this was… different. It was just… _God_, it was horrible. They were literally screaming at each other, and all I wanted to do was just get out of there. But then I heard Mum on the landing, and the shouting got much louder, so I thought, I'll wait until they go downstairs and then slip out the front door."

He paused, glancing up at Bella, then back at his hands, clasped tightly in front of him. He leaned forward and grabbed his wine, draining the glass, before putting it back down. Without a word, Bella refilled their glasses, emptying the bottle, before looking at him expectantly.

Edward picked up his glass and took a couple of sips, then set it back down on the table. He leaned back and let his head rest for a moment against the wing of the sofa, the crackle of the fire filling the silence. Again, he sat forward and took a deep breath.

"They were on the landing, like I said. I was in my room, staying quiet—which was pointless, as they probably wouldn't have heard me even if I'd blasted out The White Stripes at full volume.

"But then… _fuck..._" He took another breath, shaking his head. "Then, I heard Mum scream… but not like screaming at him, just this high-pitched shriek, and then a really loud thudding noise that just went on and on, and then… nothing; well, just for a couple of seconds, and then I heard more thumping down the stairs, but this time, much more like someone running down. So I opened my door and looked out. I couldn't really see anything, so I went out on the landing and could see Paul at the bottom of the stairs, peering down at Mum, who was kind of… crumpled below him. And then… _Jesus…"_

He gripped his hair, and stared at Bella, his eyes wide with horror and despair.

She couldn't bear to be so far away from him in that moment, so she shuffled across the couch and put an arm around his shoulders.

"Tell me, Edward. You've done so well, you're nearly there. Once it's out, it can't hurt you anymore." She wasn't sure she believed that, but she suspected Edward needed to hear it.

Slipping his arms around her waist, he leaned his head against her shoulder and sighed. He still felt terrible, but her touch was like salve for his soul, and everything seemed easier when she held him.

"I heard Mum groaning. I thought Paul was going to help her. I was just about to shout down to him to call an ambulance, but before I could, he… he bent over her and grabbed her by the hair and…"

He swallowed, his breathing becoming shallow and rapid. Bella held him tight, stroking his hair.

When he spoke again, his voice was barely more than a croaking whisper.

"He… he grabbed her hair and pulled her head up… she was lying face down, and… he just smashed her forehead into the bottom step… like, _really_ hard…"

"Oh, God, Edward. Oh, my poor baby," Bella crooned, rocking him gently.

"I… I just shot back from the bannister… Fuck, Bella, I was terrified. I didn't know what to do. I just crept back into my room and climbed out the window. I was scared shitless. I climbed down the drainpipe, which I would never normally have risked, but I thought he'd kill me too."

He was crying openly now, and Bella could do nothing but hold him.

His voice almost gone, he carried on. "I'm such a fucking coward, Bella. I just left her there with that… that _bastard!_"

"Shhhh… you couldn't do anything, Edward, you were just a boy. He might have done the same to you, and then what good would that have done?"

"I tried to help. I w-went to the phone box on the corner and called the police and an ambulance. I didn't give my name. I just watched from the corner when they arrived. I thought they'd bring him out in handcuffs, but after what felt like an hour of waiting, they just brought my mum out on a stretcher, and that… that _fucker_ got in with her and they all left."

"What did you do? You didn't go back there did you?"

"I went to Mike's, but he'd gone out. His mum let me hang out, and then the police came looking for me—someone must have told them I spent time there. They said Mum was dead, that she'd fallen downstairs. I asked them where Paul was, and they said they'd brought him home."

He pulled away from Bella then, and gaped at her, a look of incredulity on his face.

"Do you know what they said, Bella? They said, 'you should go home, kid, your dad's in a terrible state and he needs you.' Can you believe that?"

He got up and started pacing again.

"What did you do?"

"I told them, that fucker's not my dad, and he wasn't married to my mum. I was going to tell them that he pushed her downstairs, but then I realised that would mean he'd know I was in the house, that I saw him do it. And if the police didn't believe me, or they didn't have any evidence, then he'd be free to fucking come after me too."

He stopped pacing and stared intently at Bella, his eyes begging her to understand.

"He obviously told them she fell and they must have believed him, because they were there at Mike's, telling me that murdering shithead was broken-hearted… Christ, Bella, what was I supposed to do?"

He gripped his hair with both hands, his face so wracked with guilt and fear and desperation, that Bella was compelled to go to him. Standing up, she walked over to where he stood, reaching up to gently pull his hands away from his beleaguered hair and holding them clasped against her chest.

"Edward, please, you don't have to convince me. I understand you were scared… I totally get that. Don't beat yourself up about this. You were just a boy, and that man was a violent psychopath, who would have no more compunction about hurting you—or worse—than he did your mother."

Keeping his hands pressed to her bosom with one hand, she lifted the other and slid her fingers into his hair, pushing it gently away from his face.

"He's the one to blame for what happened to your mum, not you—never forget that, and never think otherwise."

He extracted one of his hands to capture hers where it skimmed through his hair, and placed it against his own chest. Looking down at her, he felt a lump in his throat but swallowed it back and forced himself to speak.

"Why are you so good to me? What did I do to deserve such kindness?"

* * *

*** Clarifications:-**

Bollocks – Anglo-Saxon word for testicles; used as a general swear word, or as a noun to indicate that something is rubbish.  
Cafetiere – Heat-resistant glass jug with metal filter/plunger inside the lid.  
Seven stone weakling – An expression which came from the American body builder, Charles Atlas. There are 14lbs to a stone, so a 7st weakling would weigh 98lbs.  
Benefits scrounger – Someone who screws the welfare system to get as much money as possible without even trying to find work.


	9. Tragedy

**WARNING: This chapter deals with some very difficult issues related to drug use; please read with caution.**

* * *

**Chapter 9 ~ Tragedy**

Bella wearily made her way along the hallway to Edward's bedroom, his heart-rending cries spurring her on, as she jogged the last few feet and threw open the door. She wasted no time in going to him.

Quickly discarding her robe and slippers and pulling back the covers, she climbed into bed beside him where he lay on his back. His hands were locked tight around his hair as he shouted his despair, but as soon as Bella put a gentle hand on his chest, his cries became whimpers, his hands falling away from his head.

"Shhh, it's okay, Edward, you're safe," she whispered, pulling herself closer to him as his arms crept around her and held her tight. She moved her hand in soft circles over his heart whilst continuing to murmur meaningless but comforting noises, until he finally quieted. A few minutes later, his even breathing let Bella know that he had fallen into a deeper sleep, and she stilled her hand.

A part of her was disappointed that Edward's subconscious was still tormenting him so violently, having bared his soul so dramatically that night. However, she couldn't say she was surprised, as it was inevitable that the events he had described would have left an indelible and terrifying mark on him. It would probably take months, if not years, of therapy before he could find a way to come to terms with it.

After Edward had queried Bella's kindness, she had been unable to answer, merely smiling and shaking her head. How could she tell him that she could do nothing else _but_ help him? How could she explain that, in three short days, she had grown to care more for this beautiful, but troubled, young man than anyone else she had ever known outside of her family? How could she admit that she would do whatever it took to keep him with her for as long as he was willing to stay?

So, she sat him down and encouraged him to finish his story, listening as he described the long years of poverty and hardship, living rough on the streets at the beginning because he was too young to get a job and too terrified to go home. When at last he was able to get work, it never lasted very long, nor paid enough to afford any kind of decent accommodation, leaving him moving from hostel, to squat, to acquaintances' floors and back to squats—or worse, shivering under a blanket in a shop doorway. He told her about the drugs which helped him forget, and of his fear of ending up like people he'd known, dying on the street or in squalid, vermin-infested rooms, a belt looped tightly round their arms, and a hypodermic buried in a vein. He talked of those whose veins had collapsed, who injected into their groins, or between their toes.

She had cringed as he described his efforts to avoid those who preyed on vulnerable and desperately lonely young men and women, her imagination filling in the gaps which she was sure he left in his story. He explained how he learned to fight, and how, despite the impoverishment of his diet, he had been fortunate to experience a growth spurt which had enabled him to more easily defend himself. She internally thanked God for such mercies, whilst, at the same time, cursing the system which allowed youngsters like Edward to fall through the cracks.

And then he had told her about the girl.

Tanya had been a runaway at fourteen, and a world-weary crack and heroin addicted prostitute when he met her at eighteen. By then, her looks were already fading, and although they were the same age, she seemed so much older. He could tell that she must have been stunning once, but now her strawberry blonde hair was thin and lank, her English rose complexion was sallow and marred by pimples, and her tall frame was emaciated and androgynous. Her drug habit made her sullen and combative one minute, needy and full of faux affection the next. She was a liar and a thief, who would sell her own mother out for a fix, but Edward recognised the frightened, lonely child inside her, and tried hard to take care of her.

As Bella lay in the darkness, listening to Edward's steady breathing and feeling the strong thump of his heart beneath her hand, she could hardly conceive of the horrors he'd experienced in these last four years. Barely more than a child himself, he had put himself on the line to protect Tanya—an ultimately futile endeavour.

He had wept again as he had described the squalor in which they lived. How she had become pregnant and been beaten up by her pimp—a cruelly ironic reminder of the event which had set him on this course. Answering Bella's silent question, he had haltingly told her that he had no idea if it was his child or not.

Despite the beating, the foetus had survived, only to be born prematurely, already addicted to crack and heroin. He could barely get the words out as he talked of how the child screamed and cried endlessly as it underwent enforced cold turkey. Tanya had no milk, and even if she'd had any, it would have just prolonged the baby's addiction, so Edward begged, borrowed and stole the money to buy powdered baby milk.

Bella listened, tears rolling down her cheeks, as Edward described the morning he had woken up to silence. How he had, at first, revelled in it, until he realised that it was _too_ quiet.

Pushing himself off the dirty mattress he shared with Tanya, he stumbled into the next room where little Katie slept in a cardboard box lined with grubby blankets. Looking down on her tiny, undernourished body, he touched a finger gently to her waxen cheek. She was so still and so cold, and the knowledge that she was gone and that she might have been his daughter brought him to his knees. Minutes later, he wasn't even aware of Tanya coming into the room until he heard her shrill, keening wail. But when he got up and tried to give her comfort, she pushed him away, dashing back into their bedroom.

Following close behind, he could only stand in the doorway and watch as she cooked up her morning fix, filled the syringe with shaking hands and looped a belt around her right forearm. Then, gripping the strap between her teeth, she pulled it tight, before extending her arm and slapping at the crease of her elbow. The veins in her left arm had long since failed, but she managed to raise the one in her right arm sufficiently to allow her to plunge the hypodermic home.

Moments later, she had been wholly unconcerned about the sad little corpse in the next room.

Edward had wiped away his tears and got dressed. He knew he should probably stay and try to offer comfort, but Tanya would have neither known nor cared in her present state.

And, if he was honest, he was very much afraid he'd be tempted to follow her into oblivion if he hung around.

So he had left and walked around for hours. As his grief threatened to swamp him, he'd lost track of time, but when it started to rain, he had finally headed back to the flat.

He wished he hadn't.

When he returned to the squat he called home, Tanya was awake, the baby was gone, and Roy, her pimp, was propelling her out the door. Edward had asked about Katie, only to be told that _it_ had been 'taken care of'. Appalled, he had challenged Roy to tell him what he meant by that, but the next thing he knew, the odious pimp's two thugs had pushed him to the ground and given him a good kicking.

After that, he didn't see Tanya for over a week. He'd managed to find some work carrying an advertising board and handing out leaflets for a local sports shop, and when he got home one night, Tanya was just sitting there. Clearly she'd been beaten up, although she wouldn't say whether it was Roy or a customer—'Why does it matter?' she had asked him dully. She had refused to go to hospital, merely lighting up a fresh crack pipe and slumping back onto the mattress.

Two days later, Edward had returned home to find her lifeless body lying pale and cold on the floor of the furniture-less lounge, a needle still in her arm and the sickly stench of vomit and death all pervasive in the small, crumbling apartment.

Without hesitation, he had packed his few belongings, including the emergency twenty pound note he'd stashed under a floorboard. He then called an ambulance and walked out of the flat for the last time, leaving the door open.

That night he saw Paul.

Instinctively, Bella tightened her grip on Edward as she recalled the terrified expression that had instantly clouded his face when he whispered this latest revelation.

After leaving the squat he had shared with Tanya, he had managed to get a bed at a hostel near Kings Cross Station. The next day he had tried, unsuccessfully, to get some work in one of the many cafés and restaurants nearby. As the darkness closed in and the temperature dropped, he had headed towards a pub he knew near the station, in the hope of maybe getting some cash-in-hand work collecting glasses, only to stop dead as he rounded a corner. Frozen to the spot, he watched as Paul pushed through the door of the pub and stepped out onto the pavement, glancing around him with a speculative look on his face.

Edward had shot back out of sight, flattening himself against the wall. Peeping tentatively back around the corner, he breathed a sigh of relief as the heavy-set man from his past walked off in the opposite direction. Waiting until he had disappeared up the road, Edward ran across the road and into the pub, walking straight up to the bar. It was still only late afternoon and the pub was quiet, so he was quickly able to get the barman's attention.

Upon enquiring, his heart had sunk to his boots when he discovered that his nemesis had clearly been asking about him. Fortunately, the barman had been unable to tell Paul anything, and, indeed, had obviously not, in any case, been particularly interested in helping him. However, just the fact that the star of his nightmares was here and specifically looking for him, had scared the living shit out of Edward.

He'd left the pub immediately and hurried off in the opposite direction, away from his mother's murderer. He'd walked for nearly an hour, before catching a bus out towards West London. He'd thought hard about what to do, eventually remembering a friend from when he'd first lived on the street, who had left London for Bristol a couple of years earlier. Edward still had his number and, even though he got no response when he called from a phone box, he reasoned that the mere fact it was ringing was a good sign. Thus it was that he decided to head to Bristol, and found himself looking for a lift on that fateful night just a few days ago.

So, now Bella understood, finally, why Edward had been driven to such desperate and ill-considered measures. She had held him as they sat together on the sofa, her heart aching for him. By the time he was barely old enough to vote, he had experienced more tragedy than anyone should have to deal with in a whole lifetime, and now it seemed he feared for that very life.

But he was safe now; Paul would never find him here.

That thought alone made Bella smile to herself. If nothing else kept Edward in her life, that fact surely would.

And without it even occurring to her that she should probably now get up and return to her room, Bella settled down beside him and fell asleep.

Had they been observed, it would have appeared as if they were connected by an invisible string, because, even in their sleep, as one would turn, so the other would follow. Each time, they would end up spooning, chest to back, as the one behind would drape an arm over the one in front.

In this way, wrapped in each other's warm embrace, they both passed the remainder of the night in dreamless slumber.

**~o0o~**

Edward woke first, immediately aware, from the way the light poured through the window, that it was late in the morning.

Concurrent with this observation was the very interesting fact that he wasn't alone.

Lying on his side facing the wall, he realised that Bella was snuggled up against him, her breasts squished against his back and her arm tucked under his, so that her hand rested on his chest.

He was warm and comfortable, and whilst he absolutely revelled in the feeling of having Bella wrapped around him, he also couldn't help thinking about the one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn his life had taken in the last three days.

On Friday he had walked away from the corpse of his girlfriend, little more than a week after the death of her child—who might also have been his. Hours later he was running from the man who had murdered his mother, only to end up almost dying of hypothermia.

And then Bella had happened. She had literally driven into his life, scooped him up, and transported him to a place of beauty, comfort and safety.

Three days.

That's all it had taken for _everything_ to change. And not just in terms of his survival and comfort.

Three days.

Was it possible to fall in love in three days?

And, having fallen in love, was there any chance that the object of his desire would reciprocate _at all?_

He shook his head against the pillow, internally remonstrating with himself. Of course she wouldn't. Why would a woman like Bella Swan be interested in him?

She was beautiful, clever, talented and wealthy. And he was just a stupid kid, whose formal education had ceased at fifteen. He had no qualifications, no job, no money and no future. What the hell did he have to offer I M Swan, successful artist and author?

But right now, she was here, in his bed, pressed so close to him he could feel her heartbeat and the warmth of her breath on his neck. Her hand was clasped tightly to his chest. Her leg was tangled with his and he could feel the heat… _oh, fuck…_ the heat from between her legs against his lower back.

Not wanting to move, lest he disturb her and cause another panicky withdrawal like the morning before, he nevertheless couldn't resist putting his own hand over the top of hers.

He froze as her breathing stuttered slightly, and then she was wiggling against him, almost as if she was trying to get even closer, her fingers flexing under his.

Then, she moaned… very softly, but so close to his ear that he couldn't miss it. All of a sudden, he was glad their positions weren't reversed, as his cock went straight from sleeping puppy to rampant horndog in about two seconds flat. In fact, so quickly did the blood rush to his groin, he was pretty sure that if he hadn't already been lying down, he would have been in grave danger of fainting dead away.

And then, Bella wriggled again, whimpering quietly. Edward's eyes, which had been half-closed, flew open in shock.

_Holy fucking hell!_

This time, it was Edward who groaned, as he realised that not only was Bella apparently having an erotic dream, but she was... rubbing herself against him, causing his t-shirt to ride up… and she was…

_Oh, fuck me, she's so wet._

Edward wanted to turn over so badly—but he knew he couldn't… mustn't. If he turned to face Bella, one of two things would happen, both with equally dire consequences.

She would either wake up and re-enact a replay of yesterday morning's debacle… or he would rip off her underwear and ram himself hard and deep inside her before she'd even properly woken up—an action which would be guaranteed to get him thrown out into the snow… at best.

Worst case scenario? She would knee him in the bollocks and call the police. Although, maybe that would be better, because at least he'd have a nice, warm cell and three square meals a day for the next few years.

"_Ehhhdwarrr…." _

What. The_. Fuck?!_

Had she just said—or, rather, breathed—his name... in her sleep… _in the midst of a fucking erotic dream?_

_Oh, God!_

Bella's hand suddenly fisted against his chest, her hips jerked once against him, and she let out a long, soft sigh.

_Arsenal, Man U, Chelsea, Liverpool, West Ham, Spurs…._

Edward silently tried to reel off all the teams in the Premiership* in a desperate attempt to stop himself focussing on the fact that he was pretty sure Bella had just had an orgasm—which might well trigger one of his own!

… _West Brom, Man U, Fulham, Chelsea, Man U, Sunderland, Everton, Spurs… oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…_

He felt Bella suddenly twitch against him, and then she was pulling her hand away. He sensed rather than felt her roll onto her back and stretch her arms up above her head, a contented moan escaping her.

He didn't dare turn round—he could have someone's eye out with what he was sporting in his pyjamas—but he chanced a quick look over his shoulder.

Bella was stretching like a cat, her eyes closed and a small but contented smile on her face.

Edward quickly looked back at the wall, feigning sleep, just in time to hear Bella inhale sharply in a small gasp of what he supposed was realisation. There was a brief pause, during which he imagined her glancing over at him to ascertain whether he was still asleep. As he lay still, eyes squeezed shut, he felt the mattress flex, followed by the rustle of clothes, and then he heard Bella quietly pad out of the room, opening and closing the door softly.

The moment the door shut behind her, he let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and flopped over onto his back. Sliding both hands through his hair, he glanced down at the tent he was pitching, and decided he needed to take a shower… STAT.

Rolling out of bed, he trudged into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Divesting himself of his t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, he managed, with some difficulty, to point his independently-minded dick at the toilet bowl in order to relieve his bladder, at least.

As the room filled up with steam, he stepped under the torrent of hot water and, not for the first time, gave silent thanks to whatever deity might finally be on his side, for the incredible luxury of his new home and the gift of on-demand hot water.

However, it didn't take long for his thoughts to meander off in an altogether different direction, as memories of Bella's hot little body pressed against his, and her incredible sex noises, had him reaching for his aching cock.

Sex with Tanya had been intermittent, at best—usually when they were both drunk or stoned—and it had been a long time since the last occasion. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time they had fucked. For Tanya, of course, the sex had meant nothing, merely an opportunity to be close to someone she actually liked. He knew she didn't really enjoy it, and she never came—she didn't pretend either, telling him she had to do that with punters, so she didn't want to do it with him. She was happy for him to get off, more often than not offering him a hand or blowjob, but he knew that, for her, it was more about the closeness and affection he could provide than the sex.

And, if he was honest, he didn't often fancy Tanya enough to want sex—especially when she'd spent the day or night being endlessly fucked by a succession of random men.

Ultimately, their relationship boiled down to a mutual support system, and the occasional sexual release was just a by-product of that.

Plus, of course, the smack* totally suppressed Edward's libido.

Edward had never injected heroin, always having been terrified of needles and the risk of infection. And if that hadn't been enough to put him off, watching people he knew desperately looking for a useable vein in the most obscure and disgusting places, would have solidified his antipathy.

He did, however, smoke it.

When he had first arrived in London, he had been scared to do more than puff on the occasional joint—something he had done with Mike before he ran away from home. But as his situation worsened, it didn't take long for him to take refuge in the oblivion offered by smack.

But when friends died, it gave him pause—and because he didn't mainline,* he was able to cut down somewhat. He also tried to work whenever he could, constantly canvassing bars and cafés for whatever he could get. It was rarely long-term and, without a permanent address, it was hard to get anything more than washing dishes, but it helped to keep his habit under control. Then, when Tanya was well into her pregnancy, it occurred to him that he needed to get straight, because he doubted she ever would, even after the baby was born—a belief that proved to be accurate. So, a month before Katie was born, he chased his last dragon.*

Going cold turkey had been difficult, but not as bad as it could have been if he'd been a heavy, intravenous user. But in the aftermath of Katie's death, he had almost caved when he saw how it wiped away Tanya's grief in seconds. And, perhaps, if Roy hadn't turned up and pressed her back into service on the streets, he might well have done.

Now, of course, he had good reason to be grateful that he'd managed to stay clean long enough to get himself out of London and, by extension, fall into the path of his beautiful guardian angel.

And, clearly, his libido had returned with a vengeance.

With visions of a naked and wanton Bella moaning as she writhed beneath him, he worked his well-soaped cock in a fast, even rhythm, grunting as he leaned his forehead against the back of his hand where it rested on the tiled wall of the shower. It didn't take long for his climax to hit, leaving him gasping as the hot water washed away the evidence.

At last, washed and dressed, he made his way down to the kitchen, where he found Bella sitting at the table, sipping a cup of tea and looking pensive.

Walking in, Edward crossed straight over to the table, pulled out the chair opposite Bella and sat down. As he reached for the pot of tea and started filling the mug which was set in front of him, he glanced up at her.

"'Morning," he greeted her quietly, before furrowing his brow in confusion as a bright pink glow suffused her cheeks.

"Um, hi… good morning…" She put her cup down and jumped up, dashing over to the worktop. "I was, uh, going to do scrambled egg on toast… is that okay?"

Edward stared at her back, wondering if what he had revealed the night before had her re-thinking her decision to let him stay.

"Yeah, that would be great. Do you, uh, want me to do anything?"

"No… um, well, you could light the fire?" Bella glanced over her shoulder to see Edward smile and nod, then get up and head into the sitting room.

Turning back to the worktop, she sighed with relief, feeling her blush fade. The moment Edward had appeared, her mind went straight to the amazing dream she'd been having before she woke up this morning. Thank God Edward had still been asleep, because she was pretty sure the reason she woke up was because she'd moaned aloud as she'd come.

Mortified, she'd crept back to her room, where she'd discovered the evidence of her arousal as soon as she'd stripped off her underwear.

What did they call women like her these days? Pumas or cougars or some such ridiculous thing?

When Edward had walked into the kitchen and sat down it was as much as she could do not to sigh aloud, and she was thankful for the thick jumper she'd chosen to wear, which hid the way her nipples immediately sprang to life at the sight of him.

Oh, this was not good… not good at all.

She wanted him.

There… she'd let herself think it. For all the good it would do her!

Oh, God, he'd think she was a really sad old bint, she was sure.

_Stop torturing yourself, you numpty, _she chastised herself.

Bella turned and opened the fridge, retrieving eggs, butter and milk, and set about making breakfast.

_I will not think about his beautiful eyes… his kissable mouth… his chiselled jaw… his strong arms… his enormous—_

_Oh, for fuck's sake!_

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

Smack – Heroin  
Mainline –Intravenous drug use  
Chase the dragon – Smoke heroin  
The Premiership is the top division within the English Football (Soccer) League; there are 20 teams, so what with him repeating several, Edward was way too distracted to even get close!


	10. Closer

**Chapter 10 ~ Closer**

Bella set down two plates of fluffy scrambled eggs and wholemeal toast, taking her seat again, opposite Edward.

After he muttered a quiet 'thank you', for several minutes the only sound in the kitchen was the chink and scrape of cutlery against china, as the couple silently consumed their breakfast.

Edward broke first.

Steeling himself, he put his knife and fork down on his plate and reached a tentative hand across the table, placing it over Bella's and stilling it.

"Bella, are you… is everything okay?" he asked.

She glanced at his hand covering her own, but made no attempt to retreat from his touch. Putting down her own cutlery, she looked up at Edward and sighed.

"I rather think that ought to be my line, Edward. After last night…" She shook her head, then turned her hand over to grasp his.

"I have no idea how… I can't get my head around… Jesus, Edward, how the hell have you come through everything so… _sane_? You must be the strongest, most courageous person I've ever met." She put her other hand over his, sandwiching it between hers, staring at their linked fingers.

When he remained silent, she looked up to find him gazing intently—almost angrily—back at her.

For several long seconds their eyes remained locked, and Bella couldn't have looked away even if she had wanted to.

"I'm neither of those things, Bella, you've got me all wrong. I'm a coward. I ran out on my mum and I ran out on Tanya, and they both ended up dead. I keep going because… well, what else can I do? Am I sane? Fuck knows. I have nightmares… but you know that, don't you—"

"Stop it, Edward. I keep telling you, none of this was your fault. You did your best. Yes, your mother is dead, but you couldn't have stopped what Paul did to her, even if you'd run down the stairs—you simply couldn't have got there in time. You did the _only_ thing you could—you stayed alive and called the police and an ambulance. If she could have been saved, she would have been.

"As for Tanya, have you thought that she might have died much sooner if you hadn't been there to take care of her? Don't sell yourself short, Edward. You were eighteen years old, and totally alone, living rough and falling into drugs. Have you any idea how many kids survive at all in those circumstances, let alone take responsibility for someone else… two someones, in fact, when you count little Katie?

"You just can't blame yourself for what happened to them—their chances of survival were always slim, but if it weren't for you, they would have been pretty much zero."

Bella squeezed his hand and, without even thinking about it, raised it up to her mouth and kissed his knuckles.

"You did good, Edward," she told him softly… sincerely. "And now, it's time for someone to reach out to you and give you a helping hand. I don't want you to think you're alone anymore, because you're not. Whatever happens, whatever you decide to do, please believe that I'm your friend and that you can always ask me for help."

She smiled encouragingly at him, her eyes never leaving his.

Edward could feel the unshed tears just waiting to spill over, but his gaze never wavered from Bella's. He wondered, yet again, how his luck had changed so dramatically and so fundamentally, as to throw him in the path of such an angel.

He'd never wanted to kiss a woman so badly in his entire life.

Too scared to speak, lest he lose control and cry like a girl, he nodded once and squeezed Bella's hand.

Suddenly releasing him, she gave him a soft smile.

"Good. I'm glad that's settled. Now…"

She stood up and grabbed their plates, depositing them in the sink.

"Come on, I think what we need is some good old-fashioned hard work. Let's go finish off prepping the back bedroom."

Bella grinned at Edward, who tentatively returned her smile, more than happy at the change of direction. Standing, he went over to help her as she started gathering up cleaning materials and filling a bucket with hot water.

**~o0o~**

Upstairs, their mood lightened considerably as they worked together. They dismantled the bed, and Edward manhandled it into the passage, bit by bit. They shunted the remaining bedroom furniture into the middle of the room, emptying what little contents there were into black plastic bin bags. They then set about sweeping, dusting and washing down walls, skirtings, floors and windows.

As they worked, they chatted, talking about films and music, and finding common ground in stories of their days in the service industry. Bella made Edward laugh with her tales of Rose's acerbic wit and killer put-downs, and he had her giggling madly at his impersonations of a particularly crazy Italian café owner he'd worked for.

At one point, Edward threw his sponge at the bucket, just as Bella was bending over to squeeze out her floor cloth, causing her to be excessively splashed.

Shrieking, she straightened up, stomach and thighs liberally dotted with damp patches, as Edward clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Bella looked down at herself and then back at Edward, who started to gabble an apology. Reaching for the sponge, which was now floating in the bucket just below the surface, she picked it up and, without squeezing the excess water out, she suddenly hurled it straight at Edward's chest.

Having failed to compensate for the weight of her soaking missile, she missed her target, and Edward gasped in surprise as the sponge hit him right in the groin—cold, dirty water soaking straight through his jeans and underwear, making him look like he'd suffered some kind of bladder accident.

Bella couldn't contain the very unladylike guffaw which exploded from her mouth when she took in Edward's comically shocked expression.

Her laughter faltered when she watched him bend down to retrieve the sponge and then straighten up, a dark, stormy expression transforming him, in a matter of seconds, from a sweet, open-faced boy into a brooding predator.

_How the hell does he _do_ that? He's like Jekyll and Hyde!_

Bella was equal parts terrified and turned on… angry Edward Masen might just be the sexiest thing she'd ever clapped eyes on.

Her heart rate doubled and her nipples swelled and hardened against her t-shirt and bra, as Edward walked slowly towards her, dripping sponge in one hand, the fingers of his other twitching and flicking, like a gunfighter psyching himself up for a duel.

"Oh, Miss Swan… you really, _really_ shouldn't have done that," he told her, his voice a kind of soft growl, which seemed to be hard-wired to her ovaries.

Bella opened her mouth to respond, but, much to her chagrin, was able to produce little more than a hoarse squeak.

"Too late for apologies, woman."

He stopped in front of her and gazed down at her intently, his expression dark and unreadable.

Then he lifted the still sopping wet sponge and very slowly, very deliberately pressed it against her chest… and squeezed.

Bella gasped but made no move to step back, as the cold water immediately soaked through her t-shirt and bra, throwing her erect nipples into sharp relief.

Edward dropped the sponge and let his eyes drift down from her face to her breasts. He watched, fascinated, as her increasingly shallow breaths made her shapely bosom jiggle delightfully.

"Edward," she breathed, barely able to articulate.

With difficulty, he dragged his eyes from her awesome tits back to her face. Her lips were slightly parted, her nostrils flared, as she fought to pull in sufficient air to speak.

"You've made me all wet," she breathed, reflexively licking her dry lips.

_Fuck. Me!_ Despite the cold water, Edward felt his cock twitch.

He took a step closer and dipped his head. Mere inches separated them, and he felt that if he didn't kiss her, he would literally combust, right there in front of her.

Bella knew he was going to kiss her… knew it at a completely primal level. She had never wanted anything more.

Edward couldn't take his eyes off her lips, now moistened and glistening—surely nothing he'd ever seen before had been more tempting. And he knew… was absolutely certain, that she wanted it as much as he.

The loud knock at the door made them both jump, piercing their bubble and forcing them apart as surely as magnets changing polarity.

Bella gasped and turned towards the bedroom door, as Edward whispered a quiet, but no less vehement, expletive.

Another knock, this time more insistent, propelled Bella out of the room and down the stairs to the front door. Flinging it open, she realised that she was both irritated and relieved at the interruption.

As a wintery blast of cold air wrapped its icy tentacles around her, Bella's eyes fell upon the tiny form in front of her, so bundled up in clothes that, at first, she hardly recognised her.

"Bella! I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time," Alice gushed.

Realising that she was scowling, Bella forced her features to relax. She shook her head and smiled, stepping back to invite her new friend inside.

"No problem, Alice, we were just cleaning up the back bedroom, so I'm glad of an excuse to stop for five minutes," she told her, quickly closing the door to shut out the cold draught.

Alice's eyes shot down to Bella's soaked front, taking in the way her t-shirt clung to her breasts.

"Um, we had a bit of an accident…" Bella trailed off, conscious of the blush which blazed across her face at the knowing look which Alice was now giving her.

"Whatever you say, Bella," she smirked.

Sighing, Bella walked around Alice and led the way to the kitchen. "Do you want a cup of tea?"

"Go on then, if you're making one."

Bella laughed, confirming that she was. She filled the kettle and switched it on, excusing herself for a moment, while she went into the utility room to take off her wet t-shirt and grab a clean sweater from the laundry basket.

Returning to the kitchen, Alice had stripped off her outerwear and made herself comfortable at the table. Once the tea was made, Bella carried the pot and two clean cups over and sat down opposite.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Oh, nothing really. I just wanted to check how you are… make sure you haven't gone stir-crazy yet," she laughed.

"Oh, okay… thanks… I think! Hey, aren't you supposed to be at the shop?"

"Yeah, well, I did struggle in, because the snow ploughs have cleared the High Street, but I didn't have a single customer all morning. You can only do so much inventory, so I decided to shut early and come home. And then I thought, why don't I call in on Bella and Edward? So, here I am," she cried, waving 'jazz hands' and smiling broadly.

"Well, it's nice to see you. Is it really that quiet in the village?"

"God, yes. The trouble is, that, like us, most people live on side streets and unsurfaced roads, and the ploughs just aren't clearing them, and now they're forecasting more snow this afternoon, so it's just going to get worse. Jasper's been emailing tutorials to his students, because there's no way he can get into Bristol. You know, I love living in Chipping Mallard, but it's a nightmare when the weather's like this."

She sighed and sipped her tea. "Still, it must be perfect for you, Bella—you know, all that peace and quiet for writing… a handsome young man on hand for all those… _manly_ things you can't do for yourself…"

She batted her eyelashes disingenuously at Bella, maintaining a straight face.

Bella blushed to her roots.

"He's not… oh, no, no, it's not like that… oh, gosh, Alice… I don't… no…" She was at an absolute loss, as her mind suddenly tortured her with thoughts of the almost-kiss from earlier.

Alice giggled, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm just teasing, lovely… well, a little. But, oh my goodness, he's such a hottie, Bella! If you aren't jumping him, then you bloody should be, because he is gor-or-_geous_… and he's desperate to get in your knickers, girl!"

"_Alice!_ Shush! Oh, my God, stop it, he's just upstairs," Bella hissed, looking towards the kitchen door, her eyes wide with panic.

"Calm down, he can't hear us—these cottages have got nine inch walls and solid floors. So, does that mean you're not shagging the bejaysus out of each other? And if not, why not? Honest to God, Bella, he's got it bad for you, and I'm betting you would be more than happy to do the horizontal tango with him… I mean, he's definitely got the look of a man with a _huge—"_

Bella's hand shot out and she pressed her fingers to Alice's lips, halting her diatribe.

Eyes wide, Bella stared at her. "Do _not_ finish that sentence, Alice. Jesus!" She shook her head and covered her face with her hands.

"Why are you so averse to it, Bella? I'm not saying you should marry the guy, but you could have a lot of fun with him while you're snowbound."

Bella dropped her hands and clasped them round her mug.

"Don't get me wrong, Alice. He's a lovely guy and… well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't find him attractive. But he's a _lot_ younger than me, he's had a massively traumatic life, and…"

"And what?"

Bella sighed and vaguely waved her hand at her face. "I'm sure you noticed—"

"Edward didn't do that." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, no, of course not. It happened on Friday night. It's why I left London to come here. My boyfriend—or rather, my _ex_-boyfriend—gave it to me. I'm not sure if I want to walk straight into something else with Edward… I mean, I've only known him a few—"

She stopped, realising what she was about to say, and not wanting to tell Alice about how she met Edward.

"Anyway, it's too soon, and… well, he's got a lot of… a lot going on."

Alice frowned and sat back in her chair, regarding Bella for a long minute. Her scrutiny was starting to feel uncomfortable, and she was about to get up and refill the kettle, when Alice started to speak again.

"Bella, please tell me to mind my own business—Jazz is always telling me that I spend too much time involving myself in other people's lives. But the way I see it is this. You've broken up with your boyfriend—and I sincerely hope that's the case and that you're not one of those women who keeps going back to abusive men—you certainly don't strike me as one of those. So, he's out of the picture. You're here with this utterly divine piece of man-meat who fancies the pants off you, and who you admit to being attracted to. Okay, so you both have baggage—who the hell doesn't? But what's wrong with having a little fun, with enjoying one another's company… with the added bonus of a little 'hide the sausage' time? Where's the harm? You say you don't want to get into something serious? Well, chances are, Edward doesn't either, so maybe you're both in the right place at the right time."

Bella stared open-mouthed at her friend. When it became clear that Alice had finally finished speaking, she dropped her chin into her hand where she'd propped her elbow on the table.

"Wow, that's… you make it sound so simple, Alice."

"Yayy, I knew you'd agree with me! So, why don't you and Edward come over for dinner tomorrow evening—"

"_Aliiicce!_ I didn't say I agreed with you. I'm not going to let you brow-beat me into something I'm just—"

"Hi, Alice," Edward said, as he walked into the kitchen.

"Ooh, Edward, good timing," Alice cried. "I popped in to ask you both to dinner tomorrow. Do say you'll come… pleeeeeease? Jazz is so bored with being stuck at home, he just wants to shag my brains out the whole time, and my minge* needs a rest!" she exclaimed baldly.

Edward's mouth dropped open at Alice's candour, and he choked out an embarrassed laugh. Glancing over at Bella, she seemed equally bemused, but somehow he didn't think it was for the same reason.

"Um, well, it's up to Bella, really," he replied. Bella seemed entirely distracted, and he was growing more unsure of himself, especially when he thought back to the snippet of conversation he'd overheard when he walked in.

However, at that precise moment she seemed to shake herself out of whatever it was that had so perplexed her, and rolled her eyes at Alice.

"Of course we'll come, Alice. I mean, I wouldn't want you to get worn out by all the sex! What time do you want us?"

Alice grinned from ear to ear. "Brilliant. Come any time after six… bring wine!"

And with that, she leapt to her feet and put her coat on.

"Okay, lovelies, I'll leave you to whatever you were doing before I arrived. Don't worry, I'll let myself out. See you tomorrow!"

Giggling, Alice winked at Bella in what could only be described as a _suggestive_ manner, before turning and waving her hands at them. Her vaguely salacious laugh ringing in their ears, she skipped out of the kitchen towards the front door.

Bella and Edward were both still frozen in place when they heard the door open and shut behind her, finally breaking the spell.

"Is it me, or is that woman a bit…" Edward grappled for a word which wouldn't be too insulting.

"Eccentric?" Bella offered.

"Yeah, that works. And did she really just tell us that she and Jasper are… like…" He just couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

Bella snorted a laugh. "Uh huh. I think that definitely falls into the category of TMI, and does _not_ bear repeating!"

He nodded in response, but didn't look at her, instead, fixing his gaze on the teapot.

"I'll make a fresh brew, and then we can get on with cleaning the room."

"Oh, I finished cleaning, I was just going to see if you've got a claw hammer, so I can pull up the carpet in there—I'm assuming you won't want carpet in a studio?"

Bella stared at him. "Wow, you finished cleaning? Already?"

"Well, yeah… I did a good job, honest," he insisted, hating the idea that she might think he would have been half-arsed about it.

Bella held up her hands. "I don't doubt it for a moment—I'm just really impressed. And that's a really good idea about the carpet. I wonder what the floorboards are like?"

"Well, I managed to pull up a corner where it was loose, and they look pretty good from what I could see. They'll probably only need a good scrub, maybe a bit of sanding, and then a couple of coats of varnish."

"Gosh, you seem to know a thing or two about it," Bella exclaimed, her estimation of Edward continuing to increase.

"I've had a lot of jobs, Bella, including general labouring on a house refurb—I spent a lot of time stripping and repairing floorboards, and varnishing them… and I've got the splinter scars to prove it!"

He smiled and held out his right hand, pointing with his left index finger at a number of ridges and discoloured patches on his long fingers, as well as several callouses on his palms.

His smile turned to a frown when he observed Bella's face turn bright pink. She was staring fixedly at his hands, making him self-conscious, so he quickly dropped them to his sides.

"Sorry… they're pretty gross."

She glanced up, realising she'd given him quite the wrong impression, but knowing she couldn't exactly explain what she'd actually been thinking. If he considered Alice to be weird, what on earth would he think if he knew she'd been fantasising about exactly what a man with such longer fingers could do to a girl.

"I was, uh, wondering how you managed to, um, get callouses on your… _fingertips_?" she blurted, wanting to say something to stop him thinking she was revolted by his beautiful hands.

"Oh, right, yeah… um, well that's from playing the guitar," he told her sheepishly.

"Wow, you play the guitar? Gosh, you really are a man of many talents," she exclaimed, inwardly cursing herself for immediately thinking about those amazing fingers again.

He laughed nervously. "Oh, well, I really don't play that well, and I… well, I don't have a guitar anymore, so I haven't played for a while. Someone… uh, I had one when I was a kid. Mike's mum and dad got him a guitar as well, and we used to talk about starting a band, but… well, I always left it at his house, 'cos Paul hated me practising, and I managed to pick it up when I legged it. I did a bit of busking when I was first on the streets, but then it got nicked, so…"

Bella could instantly see that this was something which saddened Edward a very great deal, and quickly changed the subject.

"Right, well, all this chatting isn't going to get the work done. I seem to recall seeing a toolbox in the basement—why don't you go see if you can find a hammer, and I'll make a fresh pot of tea and some sandwiches. Then, when we've eaten, we can have a go at lifting that carpet."

He nodded, happy to move away from the subject of all the things he didn't have, and distract himself with work.

He headed down to the basement, and Bella set about preparing a late lunch, desperate for a distraction from the thoughts which were running rampant through her head.

Edward's eyes… Edward's mouth… Edward's fingers… the way the wet sponge had outlined and highlighted what was going on in Edward's jeans…

_Stop it, stop it, stop it! For God's sake, think of something else… I can't wait to find out what's under that carpet… the carpet… yeah, we'll lift the carpet and then I'll be able to see what's under his jeans… fuck, fuck, fuck… forget Edward's jeans… think about the floorboards… we'll strip them… oh, God, I'd like to strip Edward…_

"Okay, I've got just the tool—"

"_Ahhhhhhh,"_ Bella screamed, as Edward interrupted her wild inner ramblings.

"Fuck, Bella, are you okay?"

She turned, pressing her hand to her heart and pulling in a mouthful of air. "Yeah, sorry, you just… made me jump."

"Sorry. Um, I found a small claw hammer… I'll just go and make a start...?" He trailed off as Bella continued to just stare at him, her eyes fixed on the centre of his chest.

She shook her head, trying to clear it of all the errant and patently ridiculous thoughts which plagued her.

"No, sit down, I've made sandwiches. Let's take a break and eat something before we get started on the jeans," she told him, turning back to the worktop.

"The jeans? What jeans?" he asked, confused.

"What? Why are you talking about your jeans?" She turned, her eyes going unerringly to Edward's crotch, whilst, conversely, all her blood seemed to go to her face.

Edward looked down, his expression puzzled. "You said 'before we get started on the jeans'. Is there something wrong with them? Should I change them? They're nearly dry, and I didn't want to change until I've had a shower."

"What?! No! I meant the carpet… I was talking about the _carpet_!" She was practically shouting in her panic.

_What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I stop thinking about Edward's… bits?_

Bella forced herself to calm down. Turning again to the counter, she picked up the large plate of sandwiches and the two side plates. Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked across the kitchen, and deposited them on the table. She then went back and picked up the refreshed pot of tea and the clean mugs, and returned to the table.

"Ignore me, Edward, I'm just a bit tired. Come on, let's sit and have our lunch."

She smiled up at him as she pulled out her chair and sat down, and a moment later Edward joined her, deciding to keep his confused thoughts to himself.

Still, he couldn't help wondering just what was going on in Bella's head.

Neither could he stop thinking about the… moment they'd shared upstairs. And whether there was any chance of a repeat—and uninterrupted—performance.

* * *

*** Clarificatons:-**

Minge – [rhymes with hinge] English slang for vagina


	11. Horny

**Chapter 11 ~ Horny**

They finished their lunch quickly, their conversation proving a little stilted.

Back upstairs, Bella was astonished to discover that not only had Edward finished the cleaning—and done an excellent job—but he had also moved the remaining furniture. Some of it was now on the landing, and some he'd put in his own room, out of the way. This meant that, not only would it be an easy matter for the two of them to lift and roll the carpet, but Bella was able to get a much better idea of the space and how she would go about organising it.

"Wow, Edward, this is fantastic—you should have given me a shout to come and help you."

"Nah, it was fine. The chest of drawers was the only thing which was a bit of a bugger, and once I got it over the threshold, it wasn't that hard to wiggle it across and into my room."

He smiled to himself, liking the sound of saying 'my room'.

"Well, thanks—you've certainly earned your keep today," she grinned up at him.

"That's okay. Now, I'll need to unscrew the gripper at the door, but it looks like the carpet is just tacked down around the corners, so it shouldn't take long to loosen so we can roll it. Okay?"

She nodded, smiling at him, and they set to work.

An hour later, they had the whole thing rolled and folded, making it easier to carry downstairs, where they deposited it outside the back door. Once the weather improved, Bella would arrange to have it taken away by the Council, but it would be fine there for now.

Exhausted but well satisfied with their day's work, they headed to their rooms to get cleaned up and changed. Bella opted to take a bath to ease her aching muscles, so didn't get back downstairs for almost an hour.

Edward was first down, feeling refreshed and comfortable in a clean pair of jogging bottoms and a warm, fleecy, hooded sweatshirt. Wearing thick socks and his leather slippers, he went straight to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He popped the ring-pull and took a long swig, before perusing the contents for dinner. Bella had put the remains of the Bolognese sauce in the freezer, but there was still a pack of minced steak and some fresh herbs, so he decided to make burgers.

By the time Bella walked into the kitchen, Edward had finished making the beef patties and was preparing fresh coleslaw. As she looked around her at what he'd done, he lifted a pan off the stove and turned to drain the contents in the sink.

"Bloody hell, Edward, you've been busy."

He grinned at her, quickly shaking the drained potatoes onto a plate and covering it with kitchen towels.

"They don't look cooked," Bella cautioned, looking a little worried.

"They're not. I'm going to make chips. It's better to par-boil the spuds first, and then I double-fry them."

"Double-fry them?"

"Yeah. It's better if you use a deep-fryer, but your gran obviously wasn't into fried food. So I'm just going to fry them in oil in a saucepan for ten minutes, take them out and drain them. Once the burgers are nearly ready, I'll put them back in for another five minutes. It's what makes them crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside."

Bella shook her head, gazing around at the evidence of his kitchen skills. Even the table was laid.

"Um, I've set the table, but we could always eat this on our laps in front of the fire, if you prefer."

"Oh, bugger—the fire. I better go and see if it's still—"

"It's fine. I cleaned it out and put some more coal on, so there should be a good blaze going by now. Do you want to open a bottle of wine? I didn't really know what to choose…"

"Good grief, man… you mean there's something you're not good at?" she teased.

He smirked at her. "Well, I suppose I have to be crap at _something_—no one likes a smart-arse!"

Bella laughed and walked over to the wine rack. Edward watched as she bent over to peruse the bottles, suppressing a groan as she offered him a perfect view of her round, firm bottom, clad in skin-tight black leggings. She was wearing a thin camisole with spaghetti straps, over which she had pulled a black angora, wrap-around cardigan. The material of her leggings was soft and very thin, leaving little to the imagination.

Edward turned away and concentrated on the food, in an ultimately futile attempt to stop himself from thinking about what Bella looked like naked.

Moments later, she joined him at the worktop with a bottle of Australian Shiraz, digging about in the drawer beside Edward for the corkscrew.

"Are you going to have some of this, or do you want to stick with lager?" she asked, glancing over at him.

"Uh, well, I don't really know anything about wine—I haven't really tried much red," he replied, a little uncertain of himself, but not wanting to sound like a complete Philistine.

"Well, you liked the wine we had on Saturday, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I s'pose."

"Okay, well, that was a Spanish Rioja. If you liked that, I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy this. It's a medium-bodied wine, with lots of berry fruit…" She poured some into a glass, swirling it around before burying her nose in it. Taking a large sip, she closed her eyes as she let the wine coat her tongue. "Umm, ripe cherries… and just a hint of vanilla."

She smiled up at him. Her lips, darkened by the wine, looked to Edward just like the ripe cherries she claimed were flavouring the wine.

He wanted to lick them… suck on them… _taste them._

Bella frowned at the intensity of his gaze, holding the glass out for him to take.

"Here, try it… and if you don't like it, you can stick with the lager. It's not a big deal."

He dropped his gaze. "Sorry, I…"

He had no idea what to say, so just took the glass from Bella and sipped the wine. He was expecting it to be a bit sour, but she was right—it was actually really nice… nicer than the one they'd had last night, and he'd had no problem quaffing at least two glasses of that.

"Yeah, it's good, I'll go with this." He nodded at her, and was rewarded with one of those sensational smiles which lit up her face.

"Great. So, if the fire's going, and we're having burgers, let's eat in the sitting room. You've clearly got dinner under control, so I'll set everything up in there."

Half an hour later, they were sitting cross-legged on the floor, either side of the coffee table. Bella bit into the mammoth burger, sandwiched inside a soft, floury bap, which she clutched in both her hands. She chewed for a moment and then let out a low moan of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck me, this is amazing, Edward. How the hell did you make a plain old burger taste so good?"

She took another bite, and moaned again, much to Edward's consternation. He picked up his bun, trying to distract himself from thoughts of Bella's sex noises.

"Uh, well, I use plenty of seasoning, including paprika, and mix in onion, garlic, a little coriander, sundried tomatoes and Worcester sauce."

He bit into his own and nodded, as if to confirm that he'd met his own exacting standard.

"It helps having good quality steak mince. I used to make them occasionally, if I was staying in a half decent place that had cooking facilities. Much cheaper mince, of course, so I'd have to use breadcrumbs to stop them getting soggy, but they make a pretty good meal on a tight budget."

"Goh, dith ith thow gooh," Bella told him around a full mouthful, unable to stop eating long enough to swallow before speaking.

Edward grinned, absolutely ecstatic at her obvious appreciation.

"Ummm, the chips are absolutely scrummy… and this coleslaw is fantastic. I could just eat a plateful of this. Did you make this as well?"

"Oh, yeah… it's just red cabbage, carrots, apples and some sultanas. The dressing is made with mayo, wine vinegar, a little mustard powder and honey, all whisked together. I made loads, so there's more in the fridge if you want it."

Bella chuckled. "Bloody hell, Edward, you are one handy guy to have around. I should warn you that now I've enticed you into my lair, and discovered all your talents, I'm never gonna let you leave."

He stopped chewing and stared at her, watching her blush consume her as she realised what she'd said. Well, he was just going to have to hold her to that.

"You haven't discovered _all_ my talents yet, Bella," he said softly, and then carried on eating.

She forced down the mouthful of food she'd been chewing, suddenly feeling very hot.

_Oh, Edward, I really, really want to discover every single one of your many talents._

Still feeling a little awkward, she pushed herself up and went over to the old-style CD player in the corner. There was a small pile of CDs beside it, which she started rifling through. She smiled at one in particular and took it out of its case, placing it in the player and turning it on. The intro to _'That Old Black Magic'_ started up, followed by the honeyed tones of Ella Fitzgerald's wondrous voice.

Returning to her place on the floor, she smiled at Edward, and refilled both their glasses.

"You don't mind a bit of Ella, do you? I just love all these old crooners. My dad used to play Ella and Sinatra all the time when I was little."

"I don't mind at all, it's great. You talk about your dad in the past tense—is he not still around?"

Bella gave him a sad smile, and then explained how her father had died when she was a child, followed not long after by her mother. She told him about being brought up by her aunt and uncle, who had their own problems, but who took care of her the best they could and supported her dream of going to art college, even though it was a huge financial struggle for all of them.

"I'm so sorry about your parents, Bella. That must have been tough. Are you still in touch with your aunt and uncle?"

"Oh, Edward, compared to your upbringing, it wasn't so tough. At least I always knew I was loved. And yes, I'm in touch with them. It was one of the most rewarding parts of my success, that I was able to repay my debt to Charlotte and Peter. I bought them a specially adapted bungalow, a motorised wheelchair for Peter, and a decent car with disabled access. It's massively improved their quality of life, and for that alone, I'm grateful."

Edward pushed his empty plate to one side and rested his forearms on the table, letting his gaze wash over her beautiful face. The swelling had completely gone down and the bruises were starting to fade, although they were still an ugly shade of pink and sulphurous yellow.

"You really are an amazing woman, Bella. I'm… I'm in awe of you." He blushed a little and stared down at his hands, clasped together in front of him.

Bella laughed, a little embarrassed, and got up. Gathering the plates and condiments, she put everything on the tray they'd brought in and carried it out to the kitchen. She loaded the dishwasher and put the kettle on to make coffee.

Before returning to Edward, she picked up the bottle of wine, then headed back.

Edward had discarded his sweatshirt and, dressed just in his jogging bottoms and a t shirt, his hair loose around his shoulders, he was putting coal on the fire. Bella watched him for a moment whilst his back was turned, then replenished their drinks and sat down on one end of the sofa.

When he turned around, Edward glanced first at the chair he normally occupied and then at the sofa. Bella was sitting cross-legged at one end, her back pressed into the corner, partially supported by the arm, and sipping from her drink. She had filled his glass and it now sat on her side of the coffee table, indicating that she expected him to sit on the sofa with her.

So he did just that.

They started talking, although, by mutual, unspoken agreement, they left behind the really heavy subjects from the previous night. However, when Edward prompted her, Bella found herself telling him about growing up on the edge of poverty; about the inspirational teacher at school, who had nurtured her artistic gift and fought to get her a scholarship to art school. She described how hard it had been, trying to fulfil her potential, whilst pretty much working full time. She cast her mind back and tried to give him an inkling of how exhausted she was all the time, frequently finding herself on the cusp of giving up. But each time she found herself on the ledge, Charlotte or, more often than not, Peter, would talk her down.

She fought back tears as she told him about the sacrifices her guardians had made, even in their own impoverishment and poor health, how they had been the rocks to which she had anchored herself, always being there for her, even when it all seemed too hard. Their faith in her had never waned, all through the long years when she felt that she was moving farther and farther away from realising any of her dreams.

Her tears had dried and her voice had grown flat and emotionless as she had then gone on to tell Edward about her relationship with Jake. She told him how charming he had been, his pivotal role in getting her the introduction which had turned everything around, and her gratitude and his initial support.

Edward, who had been asking questions and interjecting comments during the first part of Bella's story, now became quiet. He listened silently as Bella described Jake's growing antipathy towards her burgeoning success, and the escalating violence. She could hardly bear to look at him as she revealed a litany of slaps, punches and the almost equally demoralising verbal abuse to which she was subjected. She couldn't bring herself to tell him about the other abuses, which had been tantamount to sexual assault.

She kept her eyes fixed on her hands, twisting in her lap, and thus failed to see Edward's eyes narrow and darken, his jaw clench, and his mouth settle into a hard, thin line. And as she imparted the details of that final night, her voice unsteady and breaking, she also missed the way his hands fisted against his thighs.

Her voice trailing off, Bella finally looked up, seeing for the first time the pure, unadulterated fury emanating from Edward.

"I know what you're thinking—that I was a fool to stay with him, that I must have brought it on myself, but don't be angry with me, Edward… please. I can't be sorry I met him, because at least he got me out of waitressing, and… well, he's the reason I've now got a successful career…"

The look she gave him pleaded for his understanding, but Edward merely rolled his eyes.

"You think I'm angry with _you?_" He dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, willing his fisted hands to relax. When he felt marginally calmer, he returned his gaze to Bella. Unfortunately, she was once again staring at her fidgeting hands, and Edward was compelled to reach across and cover them with one of his own, stilling her nervous wringing.

"First of all, I'm angry with _him_, not you. I'd like to fucking kill him. He's just like Paul. The only difference is that you hit back in the end, and you got out—my mum never did either.

"Secondly, that prick isn't the reason you've got a successful career—_you_ are. He wanted to get in your knickers, so he introduced you to someone he happened to know who may or may not have been able to help you. It was you who had the talent, and it was _that_ guy who recognised it. _You_ made the rest happen.

"God, Bella, you talk about me being brave and strong, but I think you're the strong one, and the kindest person I've ever met. I could never be angry with you… _ever_."

He leaned towards her, one hand still covering both of hers. He lifted his other hand and cupped her cheek, gently drifting his thumb under her left eye, where a lone tear had escaped.

Bella pressed her face into his palm and closed her eyes, hoping to stem the tide, but it was futile. More tears spilled over, and she pulled her hands from under his to cover her face.

"Hey, don't cry," he said softly, moving closer so that he could pull her into his arms.

She came willingly, shuffling across the sofa to close the distance, and burying her face in his chest.

Edward rocked her from side to side for a few moments, then pulled his arms from around her back and slid his hands up to her face. Gently pulling her away from his chest, he again tried to wipe away her tears, before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on each of her closed eyes.

Bella straightened, relinquishing her hold and placing her hands on his chest. She sniffed and opened her eyes to look up at him.

Letting his hands fall to her shoulders, he leaned in again and lightly kissed her damp cheeks. When he pulled back this time, Bella was looking at him, her eyes wide, but she made no move to push him away.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, Edward once more dipped his head and let his lips brush so, so lightly against Bella's. However, when he attempted to retreat this time, Bella's right hand slid up his chest and around the back of his neck to forestall him. She applied a little pressure, bringing him back to her so that she could press her lips briefly to his.

She did it once… twice… three times.

Each time, she kept her eyes open, looking straight into his as she kissed him lightly. She realised she'd never done that before—kept her eyes open when kissing a guy. Yet it didn't seem odd.

The whole act of kissing Edward in the first place should have felt wrong… but it didn't.

And now… oh wow, he was kissing her back… and at last she closed her eyes, as Edward's mouth stayed on hers. His lips parted, and she felt his tongue slide along her lower lip, in a clear and unambiguous request.

Bella didn't have to be asked twice.

She opened her mouth to him and felt his tongue dart against her upper lip, before sliding tentatively into her mouth, gently exploring. When it came up against her own tongue, a slow dance ensued, the kiss becoming way more intense.

Bella broke the kiss first, but only because her earlier tears had caused her nose to block up, and she simply needed to breathe.

Edward immediately pulled back, misinterpreting her withdrawal.

"I'm sor—"

Bella put her forefinger against his lips, stopping the apology before he could get it out.

"Don't be… I'm not," she whispered.

She leaned back slightly and thrust her hand into the concealed pocket of her cardigan, pulling out a slightly frayed but clean tissue, with which she proceeded to blow her nose.

She grinned up at him, wiping her nose and pushing the tissue back in her pocket.

"Sexy, huh?"

He chuckled, and cupped her face again. "Everything about you is sexy," he told her, his voice husky with desire.

And then they were kissing again, but this time, Edward pushed her back onto the sofa, his mouth drifting from hers, along her jaw and down her neck.

Bella responded by stretching one leg out along the cushions beside him, and hitching the other up over his thigh, causing him to slide easily between her legs.

All their repressed want and need that had been bubbling just below the surface over the last four days finally erupted, like an Icelandic volcano, and they both embraced it wholeheartedly.

As Bella's hands buried themselves in Edward's abundant locks and scratched at his scalp, he moaned low and long against her throat.

Then, with her leg wrapped around his hip, she pulled him harder against her, at the same time arching up into him. Her matching moan told him that she had absolutely no problem with the rigid part of his anatomy which was now grinding against a very hot, very damp part of hers.

Their kisses became ever more heated, and if Bella had been able to maintain any kind of lucidity, she would have been amazed at how quickly they had gone from comforting friendship to horny desire—undoubtedly fuelled by the wine they had consumed.

But cogent thought had long since departed, along with pretty much all her inhibitions.

Sliding her hands down Edward's chest, she quickly reached the hem of his t-shirt, and immediately slipped under the soft cotton. She so wanted—no, _needed_—to feel him, skin on skin.

It seemed he had the same requirement.

As Bella trailed her fingers over Edward's abdomen and chest, his hands moved down to grasp the hem of her waist-length sweater, pulling it up. She raised her arms to facilitate its removal, caring not a whit as he tossed it unseeingly over the back of the sofa.

And then she was groaning softly, as she felt his fingers pulling down the straps of both her camisole and her bra. Her groan turned to a gasp as he tugged down the front of her top, together with a bra cup, exposing one high, firm breast, immediately causing the dusky pink nipple to pebble and harden.

"Oh, fuck!" he rasped.

And then he dipped his head to her chest and swirled his tongue around the pert nubbin, before sucking it gently into his mouth.

Bella's gasp was loud in the quiet room, the music having long since ended.

She arched her back, pushing her breasts up, offering them to him. At the same time, her fingers gripped the hair at the back of his neck, holding him in place, allowing him only sufficient leeway to lavish equal attention on her other breast.

As Edward's mouth continued its ministrations, both his and Bella's lower bodies undulated against one another, their movements becoming increasingly urgent.

"Oh, God, Edward… please…" Bella moaned, desperate for more.

He lifted his head, transferring his attention back to her lips. He kissed her… sloppily, breathlessly.

"Fuck, Bella!" he gasped against her mouth.

"Yes… oh, God, yes… please… Edward…" she whispered desperately against his ear, before biting down on his lobe. She wasn't entirely sure just what she was begging for, but she hoped he did.

Edward's eyes squeezed shut, his control slipping as Bella's words struck home. And then, before he had time to process what was happening, he felt her hands between them, pushing at her leggings in an attempt to remove them.

It was at that point that lucidity finally returned, and he stopped moving.

"Stop, Bella… we have to stop," he rasped urgently. He pushed himself up on his elbows in order to look at her.

"Wha-what? What do you mean… what's wrong?" Bella's eyes went wide, as she felt him put a hand over one of hers to stop her undressing further.

She frowned in confusion as he continued to pull away from her, until he was sitting up at the other end of the sofa, a pained expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but I can't..." He trailed off, unable to say it out loud.

Sweeping his hands through his chaotic hair, he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes as he tried to formulate the words he needed to say.

"It's okay, Edward, I understand," Bella told him, a sharp edge to her voice. She fought, and lost the battle to control the heated blush of humiliation which now suffused her face, neck and chest. It didn't take a rocket scientist to work out that Edward had come to the realisation that he was making out with a woman much older than himself; that whatever attraction he'd thought he'd felt had somehow evaporated. He probably had the word 'cougar' ringing in his head right at that very moment.

Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed the glasses and empty bottle from the coffee table, and turned to leave.

"Bella, no, I don't think you do. It's not you, it's me—"

"Oh, Jesus, Edward, please don't patronise me with that old chestnut. Leave me with _some_ dignity, won't you?"

"Bel—"

"It's okay, really. Look, I'm exhausted, and I've had far too much to drink. I'm going to head up to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Edward watched, aghast, as she hurried towards the door. On reaching it, she awkwardly transferred the empty glasses to the hand holding the bottle, in order to open the door. As it swung open, a chilly draft from the hallway enveloped her, making her shiver. She paused, but didn't turn around.

"Um, can we just forget the last half hour ever happened? Please?"

"Shit, Bella, won't you let me explain?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head in mortification. "Goodnight, Edward."

And then she was gone.


	12. Explanation

**Chapter 12 ~ Explanation**

Edward stood for a moment, his mind in turmoil, as he realised that Bella had almost wilfully misunderstood him.

"Mother_fuck!_" he exclaimed.

Galvanised, he shot out the door and ran into the kitchen, only to find it empty.

_Crap, crap, crap, she's already gone to her room. What the fuck am I gonna do? I can't just bang on the door and demand that she let me in… not when she thinks I've already rejected her. But if I don't explain, it's gonna be all kinds of awkward again tomorrow. Dammit, Bella!_

Upstairs, Bella stood in front of the mirror in her bathroom, hands planted on either side of the washbasin, staring at herself.

_Isabella Swan, you are one deluded dipstick. _

She raised her left hand and brushed the tips of her fingers over the ugly, psychedelic bruise. Although the swelling had gone down, to her over-critical eye, the top of her nose appeared slightly bulbous, her eyelid still looked a little puffy, and the discolouration seemed to have spread further across the left side of her face… what man in his right mind would find her attractive?

Shaking her head and sighing in resignation, she pulled back from the vanity. Turning away, she pulled her camisole over her head and tossed it into the laundry basket in the corner. She hooked her thumbs inside the waistband of her leggings and sat on the toilet seat to pull them off, together with her socks, before adding them to the basket.

Dressed in just her bra and a thong, she grabbed her electric toothbrush and proceeded to clean her teeth.

She didn't hear the soft, tentative knocking on her bedroom door.

After rinsing with mouthwash and quickly relieving herself, she washed her hands and then used a cleansing wipe to freshen her face. Finally, she grabbed an elastic hair tie and walked back into the bedroom whilst, at the same time, pulling her long hair up to tie it into a ponytail, preparatory to applying moisturiser.

"Oh, fuck me!"

Bella's head shot up and her eyes met Edward's wide, panicked stare.

"Jesus, Bella, I'm sorry… I did knock…" He trailed off, unable to articulate further—or to stop staring.

Equally, Bella was rooted to the spot, her hands frozen in the act of pulling her hair through the twisted tie. But then, as she watched Edward's gaze rake down her body, she suddenly seemed to become aware of her semi-nakedness and dropped her arms, letting her hair tumble down around her face and shoulders. Glancing quickly around her, she spotted her robe lying across the end of the bed and made a grab for it. She turned her back on the apparently dumbstruck man and pulled it on, fumbling, in her haste, to find the armholes. Looking over her shoulder as she tied the sash, she noted that Edward was still frozen in place.

"What are you doing in here, Edward?" She was angry—with him, with herself—and failed to hide the sharpness of her tone.

Jolted out of his near trance-like state, Edward finally seemed to take stock of what he was doing, and where he was. Fiercely running both hands through his hair, he dropped his gaze and shuffled his feet. As Bella turned once again to face him, he abandoned the attack on his unruly locks and pushed his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Edward, I'm tired, so whatever has you so het up that you felt obliged to barge into my room uninvited will have to wait until tomor—"

"Bella, please, you've got it all wrong. Whatever you're thinking happened downstairs… look, I need to say my piece, so you know why I said what I said… and then… well, if you want me to go, I'll go… I mean, I'll leave in the morning… if that's what you want. But you have to hear me out… _please_."

He finally raised his head to find Bella's gaze fixed intently on him. As their eyes met, he saw her pupils dilate, and then she was breaking the connection, forcing herself to stare at a point somewhere over his left shoulder. She said nothing, but he could see the tension in her shoulders and in the way she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

He took a step towards her, but as soon as he saw her bristle, he stopped. How had they gone so quickly from the torrid intimacy of barely twenty minutes ago, to this cold impasse?

"Bella, I… _Jesus_, how do I even say this?" Edward removed his hands from his pockets and clasped them around the back of his neck. Sighing, he tried again.

"The reason I stopped… downstairs… if you're under some ridiculous impression that I don't want you… God, Bella, nothing could be further from the truth."

Now she did look at him, a bemused expression on her face.

"But you said—"

"I said we needed to stop, because the last time I had sex was with Tanya—a heroin and crack addicted prostitute. She said she always used a condom with punters, but… well, I can't remember if we always did… if we were, you know, stoned, and it's possible she forgot with customers—or… you know, maybe they refused. Sometimes I thought Katie might be mine, but mostly I reckoned she probably wasn't… I mean, she didn't look like me… Anyway, the point is that I don't have a condom, and I'm thinking you wouldn't have had one handy either, and I really need to get checked out… you know, at a clinic, before I can…" He gestured vaguely towards her with his hand, two bright spots of colour lighting up the pale skin of his cheeks.

"So, um, it wasn't because of my face or because I'm… too old," Bella mumbled, so softly he had to lean forward to hear her.

"What the fuck? How could you think that? You're the most beautiful woman I've ever set eyes on, even with the damage that bastard did to you."

He took a chance and stepped closer. Bella still seemed a little wary, but she dropped her arms, her fingers playing nervously with the sash of her robe.

"Really?"

"Really." He continued to move slowly towards her, until he was standing less than a foot away.

"But I think I'm probably a lot older than you," she insisted.

"That's daft—you can't be more than four or five years older than me. I'll be twenty in June."

Bella gasped and met his gaze. "Twenty? You mean you're nineteen right now?"

Edward chuckled. "Yep, all legal and above board."

"Yeah, right… well, I'm gonna be thirty next September."

Edward stared at Bella for a moment, and then cocked any eyebrow.

"So, you're _just_ twenty-nine, in fact."

"Well, yes, but… bloody hell, Edward, I'm nearly ten years older than you. Not so attractive now, am I?"

She started crossing her arms again, casting her gaze to one side so that she wouldn't see his inevitable rejection.

But Edward was having none of it. He reached out and pulled at her arms, sliding his hands down until he had hold of both of hers. Squeezing them gently, he cocked his head to one side to try and get her to look at him.

"Listen to me, Bella. The first time I saw you, with your face all swollen and bruised, you took my breath away. Every day, the better I get to know you, and the more you heal, you become more beautiful. I can't believe you're twenty-nine—you absolutely don't look it, and even if you did, it wouldn't make the slightest difference to me. I know it's only been a few days, but I feel like I've known you forever… I feel like I've been waiting all my life to meet you. Does that make any sense?"

Bella swallowed hard and finally looked at the stunning boy in front of her. She glanced down at their joined hands and then back up at him. It was foolish… ridiculous … and yet, she couldn't deny that it made perfect sense. Never in her life had she met anyone with whom she'd felt so instantly connected, despite their very different backgrounds. Yes, they had only known one another for a ridiculously short time, but something just felt so… _right_. Like when you're trying to catch your breath and you just can't take in enough air, and then, all of a sudden, you inhale deeply and feel your lungs fill completely.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Yes?"

"Yes, it makes total sense… to me." She smiled up at him, her first smile since they had parted company downstairs.

"Good. So, I take it you now understand that if I had a condom right now, or there was any chance at all your old granny was a bit of a goer and left a box of 'extra ribbed' in the bedside table, I'd be all over you like a cheap suit."

Bella giggled. "I suppose."

"There's no 'suppose' about it. If you don't believe me…" He guided Bella's left hand down with his right and then pressed it against the fly of his jeans, causing her to gasp when she felt the rigid bulge beneath the material.

"See? That's what you do to me… like, _all_ the bloody time." He stared down at her, his eyes hooded, and licked his lips.

Bella felt her heart rate pick up alarmingly, and she finally understood the expression, 'my heart was in my mouth', because she could feel its staccato beat in the back of her throat. Unconsciously mimicking Edward's gesture, she, too, licked her lips, causing his eyes to focus intently on her mouth.

"You make me wish for all kinds of things I can't have," he told her softly.

"Who says you can't have them?" she whispered, tilting her head up in a clear invitation.

"Guys like me aren't supposed to get girls like you," he responded, dipping his own head so that his lips now brushed hers in the lightest of kisses.

As he went to pull back, Bella let go of one of his hands, raising it in order to curl her fingers around the nape of his neck, bringing him back to her. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, feeling, rather than hearing, the groan which escaped him.

And then his arms were around her, his mouth all over hers as he kissed her with an intensity and a passion which he had never previously felt with anyone else.

Both of Bella's hands found their way into his hair, as she attempted to get ever closer to him.

For long minutes, the only sounds in the room were the smack and suck of lips, soft, barely audible moans, and the odd grunts of frustration and need.

It was Edward who drew away first—partly in want of oxygen, partly because he knew that if he didn't stop now, he wouldn't stop at all. Bella was practically naked, and just a few feet behind her was a big, comfortable bed.

Inhaling vital air and breathing heavily, Edward attempted to slow things down without prompting a similar reaction to the one Bella had had downstairs.

"Bella… God, Bella, I don't want to stop, but if we carry on, I'm going to do something really, really stupid. Please, have mercy on me."

He used both hands to sweep her tousled hair away from her face, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Dammit to hell, Edward, maybe I should call Alice and see if she has any condoms!" Bella was on the Pill but, for the first time, desperately resented the snow which made it impossible to simply drive the mile and a half to the 24-hour petrol station for urgently needed supplies.

Edward chuckled, although she could clearly hear the edge of frustration behind it.

"Yeah, I'm sure Jasper and Alice would love to be woken up at one o'clock in the morning by their horny neighbours."

He pulled further away, holding Bella by the shoulders and keeping her at arm's length.

"Look, we've only known each other… what, four days? And we've both had a lot to drink. Tomorrow morning you may well have second thoughts, and I don't ever want to do anything that will make you feel awkward, or think less of me."

Bella rolled her eyes and put her fingers over his mouth to shush him. Then she slipped her right hand into his left and pulled him towards the bed. At first, he tried to resist, but then, when she sat down and patted the space beside her, he quickly joined her, swivelling his body to face her.

"Edward, I could say the same to you, but I think it's pretty clear that there's something going on between us. You're right, of course, about getting checked out at a clinic—not because of the sex thing… well, not entirely because of that, but to make sure you're healthy. It was remarkably foolish of me to forget about that, and I'm glad there's at least one sensible, mature grownup around here. I feel pretty stupid right now.

"As for the amount of time we've known each other… I'm starting to think that it wouldn't matter whether it was four days, four months or four years. I can't deny that I'm a little concerned about our age difference, but I suppose if it were the other way round, neither of us would give it a moment's thought, so I'm probably being a bit paranoid…"

"You are! Honestly, Bella, I really don't give a toss about it. Even if you looked your age—which you absolutely don't—it wouldn't matter, not to me. I just..."

"You just what?"

Edward sighed, picking up her right hand from where it lay in her lap, and gently rubbing her fingers.

"I just think you'll wake up in the morning and realise it's the drink talking and that I'm not good enough for you."

"Oh, Edward, that's nonsense—"

"Is it, Bella? Really? I left school when I was fifteen; I don't even have GCSEs*, let alone a degree; I've never had a proper job, and until a few days ago I was living in a squat with a junkie prostitute, who was shooting up two minutes after finding her baby dead. I have no idea who my father is, and I'm on the run from the man who murdered my mother. In anyone's book, I'm a pretty bad bet."

"Well, I think you're decent and brave, extraordinarily resourceful and resilient, and a bloody hard worker. On top of all that, you're drop dead gorgeous and sexy as hell… oh, and a phenomenally good cook to boot—which, by the way, is not only really cool, but also incredibly sexy. Just where the hell did you learn to cook like that?"

Edward's chin dropped to his chest, a shy smile lighting his face.

"You think I'm gorgeous?" he asked, glancing up through his unfeasibly long eyelashes.

Bella pursed her lips. "Don't forget sexy… and that's all the ego-stroking you're getting tonight."

Edward smirked. "Well, it's not my ego I want you to stroke right now."

She gasped and slapped his shoulder. "Edward Masen, you are shameless. And you're the one who put the brakes on, so stop revving my engine unless you're prepared to take me for a ride."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I just… shit, Bella, I just want you… you know?"

Swivelling to face him on the bed, she reached up and cupped his cheek.

"I do know, Edward, believe me." She dropped her hand and sighed deeply, focussing on her lap. She said nothing for a moment, and when she glanced back up, she found Edward looking intently down at her, brows furrowed.

"Are we being foolish, Edward? I keep telling myself that we only met four days ago, but we seem to be hurtling into something over which neither of us seems to have any control."

"Bella—" Edward's expression became ever more concerned; he didn't like the way this was going.

She held up her hand, palm out.

"Hang on, just let me finish. That's what I keep telling myself, but what I'm _feeling_ is… God, I don't know… it just feels totally… inevitable? Like, no matter what I do, even if I were to send you away, somehow it wouldn't make any difference. I keep thinking that, even if you'd got a lift from someone else that night, something would have happened to bring us together.

"Christ, I sound like an idiot. I honestly don't believe in all that bollocks about fate and destiny—I think, to a very great extent, you make your own luck. And yet… oh, take no notice of me, I'm starting to babble."

She went to stand up, but Edward grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. As she turned to look at him, he took her face gently in his hands.

"You're not babbling," he told her softly, "you're absolutely right."

He kissed her then, softly, passion abated for now.

Pulling away, he smiled at her, and was rewarded by an answering smile. By mutual, unspoken agreement, they both got up, and Bella walked him to the door. There, they kissed again, a light, chaste touch of soft lips on soft lips.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Goodnight, Bella. I hope you have an undisturbed night."

She nodded in understanding, but said nothing. Although she didn't want Edward to have to endure another hideous nightmare, she knew it would be untrue to say she'd be upset if she had to rush to his room again tonight.

"Oh, and Edward?"

He paused with his hand on the edge of the door, and looked back at her quizzically.

"Please don't mention my grandmother and condoms in the same sentence ever again."

He laughed and walked away, down the passage to his own room, where he turned to look at her one more time, before opening the door and disappearing from view.

**~o0o~**

Bella lay awake for a long time, listening out for the tell-tale signs of Edward having another nightmare, but the silence of the night remained unbroken. In fact, it was the first time since she'd arrived that Bella had been quite so aware of just how profoundly quiet and dark the countryside was. It was a little like being in one of those sensory deprivation tanks, and, as sleep eluded her, she started to find it almost oppressive. In London, it was never completely silent or dark, and she began to feel a little claustrophobic.

Turning the light on, she immediately felt both relieved and a little foolish. She sat up in bed and picked up her Kindle from the bedside table. For a good ten minutes, she tried hard to concentrate on the words in front of her, and not think about Edward, half-naked, in his room down the hall.

It was an exercise in futility, if ever there was one.

She glanced at her radio-alarm clock, groaning when she saw that it was gone three o'clock.

She got up and ran quickly to the bathroom to pee, shivering in her thin pyjamas—with the heating off, the warmth had quickly leached from the house through the single-glazed windows.

She closed the bathroom door quietly as she returned to her room, and wondered for a moment if she dared creep into Edward's room and climb into bed with him—just for a cuddle. She even went so far as to put on her robe and slippers and tiptoe out of her room and down to his.

For almost two minutes she stood outside his door, trying to summon up the courage—and a sufficiently good excuse—to go in. But, in the end, she knew it was a bad idea. There was still enough alcohol in her system that, if Edward gave into temptation, she would just let him, and damn the consequences, which she knew would be a remarkably stupid thing to do.

Bella sighed and turned away. Back in her own room, she threw off her robe and slippers and climbed back into her still-warm bed. With the duvet pulled up to her chin, she let her fingers slide down over her breasts, gently circling her prominent nipples, before easing down over her stomach and inside her pyjamas. Parting her legs, she pushed her middle finger between her lower lips, knowing that the moisture gathered there would provide more than enough lubrication. Finding her clit, she wasn't surprised to discover that it was already a little swollen, and proceeded to rub against it in tight little circles, the motion speeding up, along with her breathing, as she desperately sought relief from her gnawing frustration.

Squeezing her eyes tightly shut as a wonderful tingling sensation started to blossom in her abdomen, she forced herself to remain quiet.

In her mind's eye, it was Edward, lying beside her, who was wringing such pleasure out of her, and she almost bit her tongue when her orgasm swamped her, rolling over her like a wave and pulling her under.

"_Edward… Jesus… yessss," _she hissed in a tortured whisper.

Her hand fell away and she breathed heavily as she came down. She told herself she'd get up in just a minute to clean herself up and wash her hands. But just minutes later, her breathing had not only returned to normal, but had evened out and become deeper, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

**~o0o~**

Down the hall, Edward had sat up in bed when he heard Bella outside his room. Suffering from a similar bout of insomnia, he had heard the creak of the old floorboards as she had crept down the hall, and he had waited with both dread and anticipation for her to come in. When she didn't, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

He pushed the duvet off and looked down at himself. Because he kept the curtains drawn back, his room was bathed in a silvery light from the moon, and he could clearly see the bulge in his pyjamas. But even if his room was as dark as Bella's, he would have been more than aware of his aching cock.

Now, with Bella in retreat, he had no alternative but to release himself from his pyjamas and take matters into his own hand.

It didn't take long, and round about the moment that Bella was gasping through her orgasm, Edward's own was spurting and splashing across his stomach and over his hand. Unlike Bella, he forced himself out of bed and cleaned up. He then got back under the covers and, again, in contrast to the sleeping woman at the end of the hall, he lay awake for another hour, praying—to whom or what, he didn't know.

Edward's pleas to a higher power were two-fold.

He desperately hoped that Bella would, in the cold light of day, feel the same as she had when they'd been together in her room.

And he prayed really, _really _hard for the snow to melt.

* * *

*** Clarification:**

GCSEs are exams taken by 16 year olds in British schools. After that, 17-18 year olds study for their A-level exams, which are what they need to get into university.


	13. Possibilities

**Chapter 13 ~ Possibilities**

A weak and anaemic sun made its way unerringly into the sky the following morning, lighting up the snow to a dazzling, almost phosphorescent glow, but not even raising the temperature to zero.*

Thus, one of Edward's prayers went unanswered.

All was not lost, however.

Upon entering the kitchen, he was assailed by the positively mouth-watering smells of bacon and toast.

Equally, if not more, delicious was the huge smile Bella turned on him as he walked in.

"Hey, you," she said brightly.

"Hey, yourself," he responded, moving closer and, after a moment's hesitation, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He was encouraged when Bella made no move to extricate herself or chastise him, and it suddenly seemed like the most natural thing in the world to nuzzle her hair back with his nose and plant a soft kiss on her neck.

Bella giggled, reduced the heat under the pan of eggs and turned inside Edward's embrace. Without further ado, she put her arms round his neck and reached up on tiptoes to kiss him.

"Ummm, and a very good morning to you, too," he mumbled against her lips. He felt her smile, and then, even more welcoming, her lips parted and her tongue darted into his mouth, seeking its counterpart.

The kiss quickly escalated, and it was only the sizzle and pop of oil in the pan behind Bella which forced them apart.

"Shit, the eggs," Bella cursed, turning back to the stove. "I hope you like yours well done."

"What do you mean, _mine_?—I thought they were yours. Do me some fresh ones, woman," Edward teased.

"Ha, just because you've copped a feel of the landlady, doesn't mean you can take liberties, young man. Now shoo, go make the tea."

Edward laughed, relinquishing his hold on her hips, but giving her bottom a slap as he turned away.

Bella squealed, turning and taking a swipe at him with the tea towel she had draped over her shoulder. But Edward was quick, and she missed, causing her to pout. This, in turn, made Edward want to scoop her up into his arms and take her to bed that instant.

"Enough with the pouty thing, it makes me want to risk hypothermia by walking through the snow to find a chemist."* He scowled, although his tone was playful. "And if you want me to keep my hands off that amazing arse, you need to wear a burka."

Bella laughed, revelling in this new ease they both felt with one another.

"Right back atcha, handsome—if my bum is fair game, then I'm calling open season on yours too, so watch out." She grinned at him, and then once again told him to get on with making the tea.

**~o0o~**

They spent the rest of the day working in what was to become Bella's office/studio. Edward had found all the tools and materials he needed to make a start on stripping the floorboards and preparing them for varnishing. He worked hard, and Bella couldn't help but admire his diligence and perfectionism. How this boy had never been able to get a job which kept him off the streets she could not understand.

At one point, she came into the room with a fresh bucket of hot water for cleaning up behind Edward as he made progress across the room, only to be brought up short. Edward was on his hands and knees, and had stripped off his sweater, leaving him in only a form-fitting singlet and jeans.

Undoubtedly, he would be considered a little underweight for his age and height, but even in the few days since they'd arrived he had already started to look healthier, and it was very obvious that he had a naturally well-toned physique. His shoulders were broad, which emphasised his sculpted chest, tapered hips and endless legs.

As if further emphasis were needed, the thin cotton of his vest* adhered to his taut, unblemished skin, which was currently glazed with sweat.

Rearing up on his knees to look at his work and stretch his back, Bella couldn't help but think that he looked like a statue of a Greek god—he was Apollo and Adonis, all rolled into one, both heroic and handsome beyond simple words.

And now she realised his skin wasn't quite so unblemished as she had first thought.

With his hair pulled back in a short pony-tail, for the first time Bella could see that there was ink etched across his skin below the nape of his neck, disappearing beneath his singlet. She couldn't tell what it was, and couldn't help wondering about it.

Seeming to sense Bella behind him, Edward looked around and smiled.

"Over half way. If I get my skates on, I reckon I might finish the preparation tonight. I can help you with washing it down then, and it will have plenty of time to dry out before we put the varnish on."

Bella put down the bucket of water and walked across the room, dropping to her knees beside him and taking his right hand in hers. It was calloused and bleeding, and she could see at least two pretty nasty splinters.

"No more today, Edward. We need to get your hands cleaned up, get these splinters out, and put some antiseptic cream on them so they don't get infected. Don't forget, we're supposed to be having dinner with Alice and Jasper tonight, so let's just finish cleaning up what you've done and get showered and changed, eh?"

He looked down at where she held his hand gently in both of hers, and smiled.

"Okay, I suppose it can wait 'til tomorrow."

They finished washing down the sanded boards and tidied up, before going their separate ways to shower.

When Edward got downstairs, he found Bella in the kitchen, sitting at the table. In front of her was a first-aid kit, and she beckoned him over to sit in the chair next to her.

"Let's have a look at those hands," she said, smiling up at him.

He held them up for her inspection, and she looked them over carefully, noting the two splinters she had seen earlier, plus another one in his left hand. Deftly, she wielded a pair of tweezers, removing all the slivers from Edward's fingers, finishing off with dabs of antiseptic cream.

"There, all done," she told him, but without letting go of his hands. Sighing, she rubbed her thumb over the calloused pads of his palms.

"You know, these hands are way too beautiful to be doing manual labour."

"Yeah, well, you've gotta do what you've gotta do."

He stood up, pulling Bella to her feet. "You know, my mum used to say I had pianist's hands."

"Oh, do you play?"

Edward snorted. "Nah… there was never any money for that sort of thing, and all my mates would have thought I was a shirt-lifter."*

He smirked at her pout of disapproval and slipped his arms around her waist. As if to prove that he was, indeed, a hot-bloodied, heterosexual male, he pressed his mouth to hers and ran his tongue along her bottom lip to gain entry. What followed was passionate and needy, and it lit Bella up from the inside out.

Finally breaking apart, Bella blew a gust of air up her face, ruffling her hair where it fell across her brow, in an attempt to cool herself down.

Edward chuckled and pulled away. "Come on, let's go next door before we do something stupid."

"Hey, you started it!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna finish it tonight… not unless Jasper's got a condom." He winked at her salaciously, and Bella couldn't help but laugh, even though her frustration was growing with every kiss that promised so much but delivered so little.

Shaking her head, she followed Edward out to the utility room, where they donned waterproof boots and warm clothing, to make the short but icy trip across to Alice and Jasper's house.

**~o0o~**

After a simple but delicious meal of venison paté and toast, followed by a hearty beef casserole and then crème brûlée, the four friends gathered around the Whitlock's big, wood-burning stove and drank red wine. Edward still felt a little out of place, but at least now he could talk about what he and Bella had achieved in the house, and her plans for her new studio.

As the evening wore on, none of them seemed inclined to break up the party, the conversation flowing freely and the laughter coming easily. Alice disappeared into the kitchen at one point, returning with a large tray containing a cheeseboard and a large cafetierre of coffee. She set down the board, which contained cheddar, stilton and brie, plus a large bunch of red grapes, and poured the coffee. Jasper got up and walked over to a cabinet across the room, from which he retrieved a bottle of port and four small glasses, which he brought back to the table.

Bella groaned and rubbed her stomach. "Lord, I don't think I can eat another mouthful… but that stilton looks absolutely yummy."

"And it's fantastic with a drop of vintage port," Jasper told her, filling the little glasses.

"Oh, just a little taste then," Bella sighed, leaning over to cut off a sliver of blue cheese and put it on a thin water biscuit.

They all tucked in, until they were all groaning about having eaten too much.

Edward pushed himself off the floor with difficulty, and dropped down into the soft, comfy armchair behind where Bella remained sitting, cross-legged, on the carpet.

"Jesus, I'm stuffed—take it away, pleeeaasse!" he groaned.

Everyone laughed, and, without even thinking about it, Bella scooted back between Edward's knees to lean against his chair. Stretching her legs out in front of her, she looked over her shoulder and smiled up at him, as Edward reached out a hand to gently stroke her hair.

Alice cocked an eyebrow at her guests' actions and looked round to smirk at Jasper, who merely smiled at his wife and shrugged. Something had changed between Edward and Bella since she had seen them just yesterday, and it warmed her heart.

"Hey, Alice, what are you looking so smug about over there," Bella demanded from her spot on the floor.

"Oh, nothing, just really happy to have made two lovely new friends," she replied, grinning. "Ooh, I just thought. There's a new restaurant opening on the High Street next month, just a couple of doors down from my place. We should so all go out to dinner there. What do you think?"

"Oh, that would be great. What sort of cuisine is it going to do?" Bella asked.

"Um, I think it's going to be one of those new places that fuses English and sort of French-European. You know the kind… they do fish and chips, but the fish is, like, halibut in a beer batter, and the chips are giant potato wedges fried in their skins and rolled in rock-salt, paprika and black pepper."

They all laughed knowingly, except for Edward, who had never eaten in such a restaurant. He just smiled, and continued to trail his long fingers through Bella's hair, revelling in the silky softness, and wanting nothing more than to bury his face in it.

"So, have you met the people who are going to be running it?" Bella queried, looking between Alice and Jasper.

"Yes, actually, the owner's been in the shop a few times for coffee and a chat. He seems really nice… Carl something. He and his wife are going to be running it—he's the chef and his wife does the front of house stuff and the admin. He's making a real effort to meet other retailers and residents in the street. He was just in last week, actually, moaning about not being able to find any decent kitchen staff. He couldn't understand how there are so many unemployed youngsters and none of them seem interested in catering as a career. I mean, he did say the money's a bit crap to start with, but it's a really good opportunity."

Alice shook her head in obvious wonder at 'the youth of today'.

Bella frowned. "Oh, so what sort of people is he looking for? I suppose they need experience?"

"Well, that's the thing, you see. He says he's looking for young men and women, between eighteen and twenty-five, who are enthusiastic and interested in food preparation. He says they don't need experience—he really wants to do a sort of 'Jamie Oliver' and take on kids who want a job but who have never been given the opportunity before, and then train them. You'd think they'd be queuing round the corner, wouldn't you?"

Bella nodded slowly, but said nothing more. She leaned her head back against Edward's knee, closing her eyes in pleasure as he continued to stroke her hair. She would wait until they got home to talk to him about her idea.

Not long afterwards, she and Edward started making moves to leave. Jasper stood up and started collecting glasses and plates, and Edward took the opportunity to help him. Following his host out to the kitchen, he put the cheeseboard down on the worktop and turned to see if either Alice or Bella were in earshot. Satisfied, he turned to Jasper, clearing his throat.

"Uh…"

He paused, causing Jasper to stop what he was doing and look at him.

"Is there something I can help you with, Edward?"

"Uh, yeah… I, um… well, I was wondering if you happened to have… uh, such a thing as, uh… well, if you use them, that is… and, you know, if you could spare one…"

Jasper laughed and clapped Edward on the shoulder.

"Are you asking me if I've got any condoms?"

Edward blushed and stared at the floor, before finally raising his eyes to Jasper's and nodding sheepishly.

"Shit, Edward. I hate to say this, because clearly you are a man in some need, but I'm afraid Ally and I don't use them—she's… well, that doesn't matter, all you care about is whether or not I have one, and I don't. Sorry, mate."

Edward couldn't hide his disappointment, his shoulders slumping and head dropping.

"Oh, well, okay. I hope you don't mind me asking… it's just, you know, with this fu—bloody weather, it's a bit difficult to get out to buy some."

"Of course I don't mind, I'm just sorry I can't help you. I guess you'll just have to be… inventive," he chuckled, and Edward gave him a rueful smile.

"Hey, what are you two talking about in here?" Bella asked, walking into the kitchen.

Jasper gave Edward another friendly pat on the back and turned towards her, puffing out his chest and thumping it with both fists.

"We men… we talk about man-stuff… woman not allowed to know secret of man-stuff," he told her in a gruff staccato.

Alice had joined them, carrying Bella's and Edward's coats, and joined in the laughter.

"Ooh, I love it when you go all Neanderthal, Jazz," she giggled.

Edward shot Jasper a grateful look and then turned to help Bella on with her coat. Shortly after, having made plans for a return dinner if the snow persisted, or a night out if it thawed, Edward and Bella made their way back to Ivy Cottage.

Hurrying in through the back door, they stamped the snow off their boots, toed them off and hung up their coats. Despite the late hour, they went straight into the kitchen to make tea, which they then took into the sitting room. They each seemed to instinctively understand that they didn't want to go to bed, as they knew that would mean parting company—which neither of them was ready for quite yet.

Settling down together on the sofa, Bella turned side on to face Edward, an expectant look on her face.

"Well—did you ask him?" she asked, her tone hopeful.

Edward didn't need to ask her what she meant, and his shoulders slumped. Sighing, he turned to look at her.

"Yeah, I asked him, and the answer is no, he didn't have any—they don't use them."

"Bugger!"

"Yeah, tell me about it." Edward shook his head, and chuckled ruefully as he reached for his mug.

They both sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their tea and pointedly not looking at one another.

Bella was the first to break the silence, putting her drink down and turning back to rub Edward's thigh.

"Hey, never mind—the snow can't last forever. Alice said the forecast is for the temperature to start going up before the weekend. Let's see if we can clear the drive tomorrow and go down to the village. You know what they say… all good things come to those who wait."

Edward put his own drink down and turned to Bella. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, his hand warm from his cup. He smiled at her, before leaning in to brush his lips softly against hers. Bella needed no further encouragement, slipping both hands into the hair at the back of his head and pulling him in to deepen the kiss.

For the next ten minutes, they made out like horny teenagers. Bella pushed Edward against the back of the sofa and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Closing the gap between them, she gripped his hair tighter and crushed her mouth against his, their tongues dancing and playing in wild abandon. She could feel him, hard and ready, right between her legs, and was powerless to stop herself grinding against him.

Coming up for air, they stared at one another, their desperation clearly mirrored in the other's eyes.

"Oh, fuck, Bella, I want you…"

"I know, me too," she gasped, leaning back and grabbing the hem of her blouse.

Edward just stared, wide-eyed, as Bella removed her top and then quickly reached behind her to unclasp her bra. His groan, as she pulled it off and threw it to one side, went straight to her groin. She grabbed both his hands and placed them over her breasts, then moved in to once again capture his mouth with hers.

If Edward thought he was hard before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now, with Bella's beautiful, perky tits beneath his willing hands. He wasted no time, kneading them enthusiastically and passing his thumbs firmly over her pert nipples. Bella moaned into his mouth and instinctively moved against the rigid line of his cock. She longed to get off him, go down on her knees and release him from the restraint of his jeans. She wanted him in her mouth—something which she'd never been that comfortable doing with Jake, but which she now discovered she was desperate for with Edward. Despite her lust-haze, the irony that she simply daren't risk it until he got the all-clear was not lost on her.

Edward broke the kiss and dropped his head to Bella's chest, taking first one aching nubbin in his mouth, before moving to the other. He couldn't get enough of them, alternately flicking and sucking each one in turn, as she buried her hands deep in his hair, scratching his scalp deliciously, as she moaned and swore softly.

Bella was now moving frantically against Edward's hard-on, gasping loudly as she felt the muscles in her thighs and calves tense. But Edward was beside himself, suddenly relinquishing her delicious nipple and leaning back against the couch.

"Fuck, Bella, we have to stop, we have to—"

"Not yet, not yet… Jesus, Edward, I'm gonna…" She cried out, her head lolling back as she squirmed convulsively against him. "Oh God, oh God, ohhhh…"

She slumped against him, panting hard, and lowered her head to his shoulder.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut and, with a Herculean effort, willed himself not to come in his pants. He wrapped his arms tightly around Bella, as much to stop her moving as to feel closer to her. What had just transpired—watching her come, her beautiful face completely suffused with pleasure—was just about the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him, but now all he could think about was how much he wanted to be inside her.

As Bella's breathing regulated, and her brain re-booted itself, she became aware of the fact that, somewhat selfishly, she had got off at Edward's expense. Straightening up, she looked at him, cupping his face with her hands to prompt him to open his eyes. When he did, he couldn't help the slow, almost smug smile he gave her.

"God, you're stunning when you come," he drawled, making Bella shiver involuntarily.

Without a word, she slid off his lap onto the floor, kneeling between his legs. He frowned as she flipped the button on his jeans and started pulling the zip down.

"Bella, what are you doing…?" He trailed off, aware of the redundancy of his enquiry.

She smirked up at him. "Well, I'm not offering to do your laundry!"

"You shouldn't… you don't have to do… anything."

"I know I don't, but I want to." She grinned at him, silencing any half-hearted objections he may have had, by the simple expedient of delving into his underwear and wrapping her hand around his aching, needy cock.

"Ahhh, fu-uck…"

The temptation to go down on him was strong, but she resisted, telling herself that there would be plenty of opportunities for that soon enough. Instead, she pulled back his foreskin, gathered up the fairly copious emission beading the head of his massively swollen dick, and used it to lubricate her hand. Starting with long, slow strokes, she moved her hand rhythmically up and down, marvelling at the feel of him, like a lead pipe covered in silk. On each downward pass, as his foreskin revealed the sensitive head, she let her thumb trail across it, revelling in the soft gasps and moans her ministrations elicited.

As she increased her rhythm, Edward knew it wouldn't take long. He wanted to look away, to prolong the extraordinary pleasure, but he couldn't take his eyes off Bella's small hand as it pumped him ever closer to a climax which he could feel bubbling deep inside him.

"Fuck, Bella… yeah, like that… oh, God, harder… feels so fucking gooood…"

Finally, he looked up to meet her eyes, his mouth dropping open as his orgasm took hold of him.

"Jesus fucking _Christ…!_"

He jerked hard into her hand as his semen began to spurt out of him, his eyes falling back to where she gripped his pulsing cock, working him furiously.

And then he was leaning forward, pulling her hand away from him in order to grab hold of her. His hands seized her under her arms and lifted her up, whereupon he crashed his mouth to hers in a savage, all-consuming kiss.

Bella let herself be pulled back onto his lap, uncaring of the wetness, matching his fervour with her own.

When they had to break apart in order to breathe, Edward continued to pepper kisses along her jaw and down her neck. As reason returned, they simply held onto one another, not wanting to separate yet. But with reason came reality, and Bella suddenly became aware of her semi-nakedness and, with the fire dying in the grate, she shivered as her heated skin cooled.

"Hey, you're cold. Come on, you need to cover up and get to bed," Edward whispered softly in her ear.

Bella hugged him tighter. "I don't want to go to bed on my own," she mumbled petulantly.

"Bella…"

She loosened her grip and leaned back. "I mean it, Edward. I don't want to sleep alone tonight. We've proved we can be sensible… well, sort of. Please, come to bed with me. I just want to be held. Please?"

And just like that, Edward knew he couldn't refuse her. The last thing he wanted now was to go to his own, empty bed. He wanted to sleep with Bella, to feel her in his arms, and wake up beside her in the morning. It occurred to him that, despite how awful his life had been before, it had been so much better when he found Tanya. Just having someone to share a mattress with, a warm body to hold onto at night, had made his shitty life a little more tolerable. The nightmares never fully went away, but they had eased a little when he had been with her—although he knew the drugs had had a lot to do with that. The combination of being drug-free and sleeping alone had undoubtedly contributed to their renewed severity, but Bella's presence seemed to calm him in a way Tanya's never had. But then, he had never felt for her what he now felt for Bella. The thought of sharing a bed with the incredible woman in his arms, of being so close to her whilst they slept, was something he knew he wanted.

His eyes finally met Bella's as she waited patiently for him to work through his objections. But, with the loss of upper body contact, she was openly shivering now, and knew she needed to put her top back on. She reached out a hand and gently stroked Edward's cheek, before wiggling off his lap and standing. She retrieved her blouse from where she'd thrown it across the sofa and quickly slipped it on, whilst he adjusted his own clothing. She then held out her hand and waited for him to take it.

Their discussion about his future could wait until the morning.

Edward didn't hesitate a moment longer. Pushing himself off the couch, he grasped her hand in his, revelling in the smile that immediately spread across Bella's face. As she turned to lead the way, he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her softly. Moments later, they parted briefly to turn out the lamps, before leaving the room and going upstairs.

On the landing, Edward paused outside the door of his room, causing Bella to turn towards him with a frown.

"I just… are you sure, Bella?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Edward. Please… come to bed."

And so he did.

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

Zero temperature – 0º Celcius (32ºF)  
Chemist – pharmacy  
Singlet/Vest – what Americans might refer to as a 'wife-beater'  
Shirt-lifter – euphemism for 'gay'


	14. Job

**Chapter 14 ~ Job**

Bella awoke slowly. Her head felt fuzzy, her mouth tasted like a weight-lifter's armpit, and her eyes appeared to be glued shut. However, as sleep gave way to consciousness, she realised that none of those things mattered, because the thing she wanted most—to wake up in Edward's arms—had become a reality.

Snuggled into his side, where he lay on his back, she gradually became aware of his arm around her shoulders, and his hand gently stroking her hair.

"Ummmmmmmhh." She raised her head, prying her sticky eyes open, and stretched like a cat within the circle of his arm.

"Hey, sleepy-head, how're you feeling?"

Bella looked up into warm, green eyes, which sparkled like polished emeralds. Clearly, Edward had been awake for a while.

"Hey, you—have you been awake long?" she asked, her voice scratchy and a little hoarse.

"Hmm, yeah, a little while, I s'pose," he told her, smiling as she blinked owlishly up at him.

"Really? Why didn't you wake me?" She leaned away slightly to get a good look at him.

Smirking, he pulled her back and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "I like watching you sleep. You make these cute snuffling noises, like a puppy. And did you know you talk… like, a _lot_!"

Bella finally sat up, which caused his arm to drop away from her, so he sat up too.

"You do know that watching people sleep is kind of creepy, don't you?" Bella huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "And yes, I do know I talk in my sleep…"

She glanced over at Edward, who was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Oh, for God's sake, just tell me what I said—I know you're dying to!"

Edward tipped his head back against the headboard and laughed loudly. When he calmed down, he looked at Bella, who had a very sulky pout on her face, which only fuelled his amusement.

Bella narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. Reaching back, she dragged her pillow from behind her and swung it at Edward. As it hit him, he put up his arms to grab it, his laughter growing.

"Oooh, you git, tell me, or I'll… I'll—"

Edward wrenched the pillow from Bella's hands as she went to swing it again, throwing it to one side, before pushing her onto her back and pinning her hands above her head.

"Or you'll what, eh?"

He had stopped laughing, and now gazed down at her with unbridled desire. Bella squirmed a little, although not enough to indicate she wanted him to release her. But now she could feel the evidence of his desire, and couldn't resist moving her thigh in order to rub against it.

"I'll drive you crazy, that's what," she murmured huskily.

Edward let out a soft groan and dropped his head to her chest. Bella easily removed her wrists from his grip and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. The night before, she had donned a soft cotton camisole and pyjama bottoms, but Edward had simply gone to bed in his boxer-briefs. So now she could take advantage of the fact that he was topless, and run her hands over the smooth skin of his broad shoulders and lightly muscled back.

"So, what did I say… anything I should be embarrassed about?" she asked.

He didn't respond at first, simply rubbing his face between her breasts and sighing deeply. At last, he lifted his head and looked up at her.

"Nah, nothing even faintly embarrassing. It sounded like a shopping list… although you did seem to give a lot of thought to whether you wanted one Edward or two."

Bella slapped his back with one hand. "You lie, I did not!"

He pushed himself up and rolled off her. Reluctant as he was to leave her or this bed, he knew it would be wise to do so now, before anything happened—particularly in his current state of arousal.

"Did, too." He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to ignore his morning erection as he sat up. He looked back at her over his shoulder. "Let me see, if I remember correctly, you wanted, um, _'tatoes, milk, varnish, pussy-willows' _– I have _no _idea what that was all about – _'Baileys, Edward, no, two Edwards, no, one, plums'_ – that really made me laugh…"

"You're making it up, I don't believe a word of it," Bella complained, although she was hard-pressed to contain her own laughter.

Edward grinned back at her, swivelling round on the bed and holding his hands up. "I swear on my life, that's what you said. Then it all went a bit garbled and stopped after a while. But as God is my witness, that's what you said. It was fucking hysterical!"

Bella mumbled something under her breath as Edward chuckled and then got up to go to the window. Drawing back the curtains, the sun cascaded into the room in a golden explosion and he gasped out loud.

"Fucking hell, come and take a look, Bella." He turned to look at her, and then back out the window as she made her way round the bed to join him.

Peering under his arm, she looked outside to see the icicles which hung from the eaves dripping down. Focussing farther afield, she could see large swathes of green in the back garden and fields beyond, where the snow was rapidly melting under the sun's omnipotent onslaught.

The thaw had begun.

The two of them stood, gazing out at the encouragingly bright vista before them, smiling at what it meant. Bella reached up, placing her hand lightly on Edward's bare back, and, as she did so, her eye was drawn to the ink which peeked out from under his hair. Gently brushing it to one side, she was unable to suppress a soft gasp at what she saw.

Edward immediately turned his head to look down at her, but she was already moving to stand behind him. Whilst holding his hair back with one hand, she traced the tattoo between his shoulders with the fingers of her other hand. She thought he might try to pull away, but, to her surprise, he stood still, silently allowing her exploration.

What she saw was a winged woman—an angel, perhaps—sitting on the ground with her arms wrapped around her knees and her head hanging down. It spoke of deep sorrow, and tore once again at Bella's heart.

"What does it mean, Edward?" she asked softly, her fingers continuing to trail across his marked skin.

He turned to face her, his eyes shadowed with sadness and regret.

"It's for my mum… just a way to… I dunno, keep her with me?" He shrugged, turning his head away as his eyes began to glisten. "I know she wasn't the greatest mother in the world, but… well, she was the only one I had and I try to believe she loved me."

Bella reached up to cup his face, pulling his eyes back to hers.

"It's beautiful, Edward, and I have no doubt that she did love you the best she could," she told him sincerely, before rising up on her toes to brush her lips over his.

As she dropped back down, she was pleased to see a small smile eliminate at least some of the grief which she had once again prompted.

Placing a hand on his chest, right over his heart, she returned his smile.

"Hey, come on, let's get some breakfast. I'm going to take a quick shower, and I'll see you downstairs."

**~o0o~**

Edward was practically champing at the bit to get into the village to stock up on 'supplies', which Bella knew was less to do with fresh bread, milk and other perishables, and more to do with condoms. However, she was determined to talk to him about her idea before they took a step outside.

Barely able to conceal his impatience, Bella had to laugh at his reluctance to sit down and eat a proper breakfast.

Sliding his arms around her waist from behind, Edward nuzzled behind her ear and trailed kisses down her neck as she attempted to pop a poached egg out of its rubber cup onto a slice of buttered toast.

"Edwaaaarrd, stop it, you're…" She moaned softly as he swept her long hair over one shoulder and kissed his way from one side of her neck to the other.

"Ummmm… I'm what?" he purred.

Bella took a deep breath and extricated herself from his grip. She picked up a plate, swung round and shoved it towards him.

"Your breakfast is going to get cold. Now, get over there and eat it. I want to talk to you about something."

He scowled but took the plate, before walking over to the table and sitting down. A few moments later, Bella joined him, sitting on the opposite side.

"So, what's so important," he asked as he chopped up his perfectly poached egg and spread it over his toast.

She swallowed her own mouthful of food and picked up her tea, looking speculatively over the rim at Edward.

"Who taught you to cook, Edward?" she asked, her voice light and conversational.

He frowned, taken aback at the unexpected question.

"That's what you want to talk about?"

"Humour me, please. Just… tell me how you got to be such a good cook."

Edward shook his head and continued eating for a moment, before finally meeting Bella's eyes, as she gazed steadily at him.

"Okay, whatever. There's no mystery to it. Mum had this boyfriend, when I was ten—Marcus. He wasn't like the others. He was a really good guy, with a job and a decent car. I can't remember exactly what he did—some kind of refrigeration engineer, I think, installing and repairing freezer and chiller units in supermarkets, or something like that. He drove a white van, but he had a nice car as well, and used to take us out, me and Mum. He would always include me, you know? Spent time with me, helped me with my homework and stuff.

"Anyway, he used to love to cook. His mum was a professional cook, and she taught him—as far as I can remember, she worked for, like, rich families, cooking in their private kitchens, that kind of thing. She was really cool, too, like a proper gran. Marcus used to take me over to his mum's house a lot, and we'd all go for Sunday lunch every week, which was fantastic. I never ate so well in my life as the time when Marcus was around. I used to ask him questions all the time about the food him and his mum cooked—must have driven him mad, I'm sure—but he would always answer, always find time for me…"

He trailed off and looked out the window. Bella could see that he was close to tears and reached out her hand to cover his where it rested on the table. He looked back at her and smiled weakly.

"You loved him." It was a statement more than a question.

"Yeah, I really did. He was the only man I ever looked up to. His dad had died of a heart attack when he was just a kid, so I suppose he understood a little bit of what it was like for me. Except Molly, his mum, had taken much better care of him than my mother ever did with me."

"So, he taught you to cook?"

"Yeah, him and Molly both. Marcus always said he was a frustrated chef—Molly kept telling him he should go on 'Master Chef' on the telly, but he just laughed at that. But he could have, you know. He was really good, and he loved teaching me. Just little things to start with, like muffins and cupcakes, but then he would show me how to make proper dinners and desserts… God, I loved it when he let me cook something and everyone really enjoyed it. He taught me how to use a knife without cutting myself, how to chop things properly."

Bella watched as Edward's face lit up with the memory, before a cloud of palpable sadness descended.

Squeezing his hand, she dipped her head to catch his eye.

"What happened, Edward?"

"It's funny, you know. My mum had me way too young and was an absolutely crap mother, but when she was with Marcus, it was like he made her a better person. I almost felt like she loved me… like it was okay to love me because Marcus loved me… like he… I don't know… validated me?

"I should have known it couldn't last. I remember wondering where Marcus had come from… where they had met. I can't remember now, but I guess it doesn't matter. He just appeared one day to take her out, and then just was always there. I wondered what he saw in her—it seemed crazy to me that he would have been attracted to her, because she was always drunk before he came along, but I suppose she was pretty when she made an effort, and could be quite funny when she wasn't paralytic. And he wasn't her type at all—just a really average looking bloke…"

Edward stopped and wiped his eyes where tears had spilled over. Bella leapt up and grabbed some kitchen roll, bringing it back and taking the chair next to him rather than opposite.

"I'm sorry, Edward. You don't have to tell me, if it upsets you so much."

He took the proffered napkin and wiped his eyes, before blowing his nose and scrunching it up.

"It's okay. I've never talked about this to anyone, not even Tanya, but… well, I feel like I need to tell you. It seems wrong not to talk about him—he was the best person I ever knew—at least, until I met you—so I want to tell you."

He sniffed and swivelled round in his chair so that he was facing her, letting Bella take his hands in her own.

"Um, where was I? Oh, yeah, well, I guess Marcus and Molly kick-started my interest in food, and Marcus used to say that, if I really liked it, I should think about catering as a career when I was older. He said I shouldn't make the same mistake as him and go into a job I didn't enjoy. When I thought about it later, I could never understand why he didn't pursue it. He was quite a bit older than Mum, probably in his late thirties at that time, so I suppose he felt it was too late to start at the bottom.

"He as good as moved in after he'd been going out with Mum for about three months, and it was great, you know? Like we were a proper family. I hardly knew my grandmother on Mum's side—she kicked Mum out when she got pregnant and I only ever met her a couple of times—so Molly was my extended family. I used to call her 'Gran', which she always seemed to like. Mum hardly drank at all while she was with Marcus, and they really seemed to love each other.

"Looking back, it was the only time in my life I was ever happy. I know for sure I was never happy after…"

"After what… did they split up?"

He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them again, he focussed on where Bella held his hands in hers.

"Marcus had a heart attack while he was driving home from work one night. He ploughed into a lorry coming the other way. He was dead on arrival at the hospital, apparently. Turns out, he had the same dicky heart his dad had."

Edward's voice had grown flat and inflectionless as he told Bella the rest.

Marcus's mother had been heart-broken. Unable to cope on her own after her only son's death, she had moved to Manchester to live with her daughter. Edward and his mother were left utterly bereft, losing both Marcus and Molly. But, while Edward longed for her to give him comfort and succour, Beth Masen's response was to neglect her son and go out on the town. She reverted, with alarming speed, to her behaviour of old, which had promised to take her down a very dark path before Marcus had come on the scene. In his absence, Beth's drinking got out of control and she rapidly descended into full-blown alcoholism and promiscuity.

Inevitably, there followed a string of unsuitable and often abusive men, some who lasted no more than a night, others who stayed a little longer, but all of them disinterested in a vulnerable and heartbroken young boy. Fortunately, as Edward described it, most of them pretty much ignored him, although there were several who seemed to take pleasure in hurting him as well as his mother. He stopped complaining to Beth, who seemed incapable of caring enough about either her son or herself to change her lifestyle choices. Thus, she set them both on the path which would end with her violent death and a life on the streets for her son.

Edward stopped talking and gazed at Bella with sad, tear-filled eyes.

"So, there you have it. At first, I used to try to cook for Mum after Marcus was gone, but she wasn't interested. She was usually too drunk to eat properly, or she'd just stuff herself with junk food. She hardly ever went grocery shopping, just buying crap from the corner shop, and I didn't have any money to spend on decent food. When I was on the streets, if I got a job in a kitchen anywhere, I'd try to watch the chefs to try and learn a bit more. I thought maybe I could get work cooking in a café or even just a greasy spoon, or something, but without proper experience or a permanent address, it was impossible. And without a job, I couldn't afford to find somewhere to live—classic Catch-22."

He sighed and sat back in his chair, releasing Bella's hands. Picking up the crumpled kitchen paper, he wiped his face and blew his nose again, then got up to start clearing the table.

"Leave that, Edward." Bella took the plates from his hands and put them back on the table.

"I'm sorry my question dredged up such sad memories for you, truly I am. But there was a reason why I asked. Please, sit down again." She smiled up at his confused expression as he settled back in his chair.

"Were you listening last night when Alice mentioned the new restaurant that's opening in the village?"

"Uh, yeah, I s'pose. I don't really remember the details." He had been much more intent on Bella.

"Okay, well she mentioned that the owner is looking for kitchen staff and is struggling to find anyone. He seems to be on a mission to give disadvantaged youngsters an opportunity to train, and I thought it sounded absolutely perfect for you."

"For me? Oh, I don't know, Bella. I told you, I never even finished school-"

"He's not looking for qualifications. He's looking for enthusiastic and willing people who are interested in taking up catering as a career. Now, who in this room is _totally_ qualified to apply, hmm? And now you've got an address, so I see absolutely no reason why you shouldn't have at least a chance of getting in. What do you say? We could call in on Alice for a coffee when we go down to the shops, and she could show us where it is. Maybe this Carl guy will even be there and you can talk to him."

Bella peered at him with such a hopeful look on her face that Edward found himself nodding in acquiescence, even though he doubted the man would be at all interested in him. But when Bella asked him to do something, he found he just couldn't say no.

**~o0o~  
**

Bella was standing in the cereal aisle, checking the carb content on a box of Frosted Shreddies, when she heard the muffled clatter of something being thrown into her shopping trolley. Looking around, her eye was drawn to the colourful box lying on top of the toilet paper and cleaning products at the front. She picked it up and looked at it askance, before raising her eyes to a smirking Edward.

"Thirty six condoms? Seriously?"

"Hey, you never know if we might get snowed in again—I don't wanna take any chances!" he told her disingenuously.

She arched an eyebrow, but said nothing as she dumped the box back in the trolley, along with the packet of cereal she'd been holding.

"Okay, Don Juan, let's get out of here so we can go see Alice. I'm really hoping that restaurant guy is around today. And we both need to register with a local GP."*

Edward's smile faded as he turned away from her, heading for the checkout.

"Hey, come on, what's up?" she asked, catching up with him.

"Look, Bella, I really appreciate what you're trying to do here, but… well, just don't get your hopes up. I've never had a proper job, I've got no CV* and I've been homeless since I was fifteen. I seriously don't think I'm the kind of person he's going to be looking for."

"Well, no, not if you go in with that attitude." She stopped, putting her hand out to grab hold of his arm and make him face her.

"From what Alice told us, he's looking for people who want a job, are willing to learn, and are interested in food preparation. Now, from where I'm standing, that sums you up to a tee. And what's the worst that can happen? He could say no, in which case, we'll think of something else. But at least go in there with a positive attitude… please?"

Edward regarded her for a moment, wondering for the millionth time what he'd ever done to deserve his good fortune. And then he nodded, giving her his best smile.

"Okay, I'll try."

"That's all I ask," she said, setting her trolley in motion towards the checkout.

**~o0o~  
**

"Bella! Edward! How lovely to see you here," Alice greeted them as they approached the counter in her cosy little café. They had walked through the bookshop to gain access, and Bella knew that she would definitely be spending a lot of time here. The shop wasn't huge, but it was on two floors and had that lovely smell of books, old and new. Making their way into the coffee shop, she was delighted to see that it was lined with more shelves on two sides, which was apparently the second-hand section, with the counter at one end, and a beautiful, tiled Victorian fireplace at the other. There were tables and chairs in the middle, but dotted around were comfortable armchairs next to small side-tables, and three very comfy-looking sofas surrounding the fire. It was a wonderful space, and she could just imagine settling in for a good read, whilst sipping on a latte or hot chocolate in front of the fire.

"Oh, Alice, this place is fantastic. I could spend all day here," she enthused.

"Be my guest! Now, what can I get you—you are staying for coffee, I hope?"

"Absolutely. I'll have a large, skinny latte. What about you, Edward?"

"Uh, yeah, just a black coffee for me, please."

"Coming right up." Alice turned to walk away, but Bella called her back.

"I was wondering if you could join us for a bit. We wanted to get the latest on the new restaurant," she said, giving Alice a hopeful look.

"Oh, yes, right. I'll just get your drinks. It's pretty quiet at the moment, so I can get Jenny to work the counter. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, Alice returned with a tray of drinks and a plate of very tempting-looking pastries.

"The coffee and cakes are on the house—as you're friends and new customers," she grinned, setting everything down on the low, solid oak table in front of the sofas, where Bella and Edward had made themselves at home.

"So, you wanted to know about Carlisle?"

"Is that his name? Bit unusual, isn't it?"

"He's American… or Canadian, maybe—I never know the difference. His wife is English, though. He used to be Head Chef at The London Savoy, but then decided to set up his own place. I think his wife is from around here, and we get a lot of tourists and holiday home owners here in the summer, so I suppose that's why they chose Chipping Mallard. But why the interest?"

Bella looked at Edward, who hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

"Well, Edward is a really good cook and he needs a job… so I… _we_ thought it would be worth having a chat with him, see if he's still looking for people."

"Oh, he's definitely still looking. He was in here yesterday morning for coffee, and was telling me again how disappointed he is that he's only been able to interview about half a dozen people, of whom only a couple were anywhere near suitable. Edward, you absolutely should talk to him, he's a really nice guy, and I bet he'd snatch your hand off."

Edward said nothing for a moment, but then felt Bella's knee knocking against his. He glanced at her and then looked back at Alice.

"Yeah, well, I guess it's worth a punt," he said.

"Totally. Oh, Edward, you have to talk to him. You could get in on the ground floor, and establish yourself early, especially as you already have great skills."

"I don't know about great skills. But, yeah, I'll talk to him—"

"Oh, lord, there he is. Carlisle, over here!"

Alice jumped up to greet the tall, good-looking man who had just walked through from the shop. He was warmly, but stylishly dressed, with a long, knitted scarf wrapped around his neck and dark blond hair peeking out from under a tweed cap.

"Carlisle, your timing is perfect. These are my friends, Bella and Edward. Edward is really interested in coming to work for you."

Carlisle smiled at Alice's enthusiasm and then looked over at her companions. Offering his hand to first Bella and then Edward, he greeted them both in a soft, American accent.

"It's good to meet you."

Alice put her hand on his arm. "Why don't you take a seat and I'll get you a coffee. Help yourself to a cake. I'll be right back."

Carlisle walked round and sat down on the sofa at right angles to the couple.

"So, Edward, you're looking for a job?"

Bella suddenly got up. "I need the loo. Why don't you two have a chat." And with that, she was gone.

Carlisle watched her leave and then turned back to Edward, an expectant look on his face.

"Uh, yeah, I… look, I don't have any qualifications, but I know a bit about food. I love to cook and… well, yeah, I'd really like to give it a go."

Carlisle nodded thoughtfully. "How old are you, son?"

"I'm nineteen… I'll be twenty next June. I just… okay, I'll be honest with you. Up until a week ago I was living in a squat with my… well, I was basically homeless. I've never had a proper job, but I've worked in kitchens, and I was taught to cook by my… by a woman who was a professional cook. It's probably the only thing I'm any good at, and doing it for a job would be… well, it would be incredible. I know I'd have to start at the bottom, cleaning and washing up, lifting and carrying, but I'm a quick learner and—"

Carlisle held his hand up to stop the rushed diatribe, and Edward felt his heart sink as he waited for the inevitable rejection.

"Hold on there a minute, Edward. You say you already know how to cook, that you've had some training?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it training. I just used to cook with my, uh, with my mum's boyfriend and his mother. She worked in catering… like, big country houses and corporate stuff… I'm not really sure—I was pretty young. But, yeah, I can cook, and I know a bit about herbs and flavouring and sh—stuff."

Edward wrung his hands in front of him, hardly able to make eye contact.

The older man smiled. "Well, shit, Edward, you sound like exactly the kind of guy I'm looking for."

Edward finally looked up to see kind, blue eyes regarding him warmly.

"I am?" He couldn't quite believe it.

Carlisle glanced across to see Alice and Bella walking—slowly—towards them.

"You are. Listen, do you have time to come back to the restaurant with me? We can talk more, and I can tell you what I'm looking for and what I expect—but I can tell you right now, I'm not looking for a dish-washer or a fetch and carry guy." He smiled at Edward, who couldn't help but smile back.

At that moment, Alice put a lidded cardboard cup down in front of Carlisle, looking between the two men expectantly. Bella stood behind her, a similar expression on her face.

"Thanks, Alice. I'll take this to go, and Edward and I are going back to the restaurant for a chat—if that's okay with you, son?"

Edward looked over at Bella, whose grin was blinding. "Um, is that okay, Bel—"

"Absolutely. You go. I'll find myself a good book and make myself comfy. I'll be fine."

Edward smiled gratefully at her, and turned back to Carlisle.

"Okay, then. That's brilliant. Thanks, Carlisle."

"Ah, don't thank me yet. Not until you see how much I expect you to do—you may change your mind!"

"Not a chance. I've never been afraid of hard work."

Carlisle chucked. "Good to know. I think this may well be a formality, then."

Edward felt his heart swell with gratitude and hope—something he'd been in short supply of up until now. He looked up at Bella as she came around the sofa and sat next to him, knowing that every ounce of good fortune which had come his way in recent days was all because of her.

He owed her his life, in more ways than one, and when they got home, regardless of the outcome of his interview with Carlisle, he was going to show her exactly just how grateful he was… all fucking night.

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

GP – General Practitioner or family doctor.  
CV – Curriculum Vitae, or Résumé


	15. Doubt

**Chapter 15 ~ Doubt**

Edward tried hard to hold on to the euphoria which had been engendered by his meeting with Carlisle earlier. It had gone better than he had ever thought possible, and he had left the restaurant as a fully employed person for the first time in his life. Carlisle had said that he wanted Edward to start well before they opened the following month, in order to begin his training as a sous chef. He had apparently impressed the experienced man with his knowledge and his enthusiasm, and had been asked to come back the following day to meet Carlisle's wife, Esme, who dealt with the business side of things.

Now, however, he was finding it difficult to rein in his impatience. He wanted to get Bella home, but she seemed to have other ideas.

When he met her back at the café, she had insisted on calling into the doctor's surgery so that they could both register as patients and schedule exams for them both, which were booked for the following Monday—Bella had decided that there would be no harm checking that she was clean as well, in case Jake had ever… strayed. She also needed a new prescription for the pill, so would be able to get it all sorted at once.

Thinking that they could now head home, he had been unable to suppress his groan of disappointment when Bella drove in the opposite direction, saying that Alice had given her directions to the big home-ware store a few miles from the village.

Right now, he was traipsing round in her wake, as she studied paint colours, varnishes and various interior design ideas and products. He knew he was acting like a petulant schoolboy, but when she started making her way to the garden section, he could take no more.

"Belllaaa, come on, it's November and you can hardly even see the garden under the snow. Can't we do this another time?"

This outburst earned him a frown, and he started to wonder if she was deliberately prevaricating. Hot on the heels of that thought came the realisation that maybe he was taking too much for granted. They'd known one another barely a week, and despite how close they'd become, and the events of the last couple of days, was it really reasonable for him to be pretty much coercing her into bed? Yes, she had indicated that she wanted to consummate their relationship, but perhaps she'd changed her mind in the cold light of day.

Edward sighed. "I'm sorry, Bella, that was out of line. Come on, what did you want to look at?"

He started to walk past her towards the gardening products, but as he did, Bella's phone started to ring.

He turned and watched as she rummaged in her bag and pulled out her BlackBerry. Glancing at the read-out, she looked up at him.

"Sorry, I have to take this. I'll just be a minute," she said and walked a little way away from him.

"Hello, Carmen, how are you? …. Yeah, I'm still in the Cotswolds .…_What?!_ He called you? .… Jesus, I'm sorry, Carmen… yes, it's definitely over… I'm fine… I'm here with a… friend .… yeah, I know, but we've been snowed in, so I'm not sure when I'm going to be able to get back …. Oh, shit, can you postpone it? …. Okay, that would be great …. Yes, I should be able to make it back for that, but I won't be staying in London …. No, it's a long story. Can I call you later? I'm in the middle of a DIY store at the moment, but I'll call you when I get home …. No, honestly, I'm fine. I'm even writing again …. Yeah, I know, it's going really well. I think it must be this place—it's good for me, so I'm going to stay for a while …. Look, I've got to go, but I promise I'll call you later and explain …. Okay, thanks …. Yeah, I will. Thanks again, Carm, you're the best."

Bella hung up and looked over to where Edward was standing watching her pensively. She knew what he wanted, and she was aware that she had been stringing the day out. Truth be told, she was nervous. Which was just ridiculous, she knew, especially when she thought of what they'd already done. But she was close to thirty and he was still a teenager. Her body wasn't bad—she kept pretty fit doing yoga and Pilates—but she wasn't twenty anymore and her self-esteem wasn't particularly high. Jake had once told her she was boring in bed, and had frequently made cracks about her 'fat arse'. Intellectually, she knew he had been deliberately trying to undermine her confidence in order to keep her with him, but his taunts had stung, and, from an emotional standpoint, she couldn't help but believe that they had a basis in reality.

Much as Bella wanted Edward—and she really, _really_ wanted him—she couldn't help but think that he would find her wanting. The bruises on her face were fading and makeup went a long way to obscuring them during the day, but she had an enormous, still pretty livid bruise on her side where Jake had kicked her. These things, she knew, were temporary, but her breasts were, to her mind, less than generously proportioned, and no amount of exercise could reduce the flair of her hips.

Allied to all these concerns was the thought that they were moving too fast. They had met, in dreadful circumstances, just six days ago. It was true that she'd never in her life felt such a strong connection with another human being as she did to Edward. The attraction she felt was extraordinary, starting right from the moment she'd first laid eyes on him, and in these few short days, she had felt herself being pulled ever closer to him in a way which, if she was honest, scared the shit out of her. Once they took that final step to true intimacy, she had no doubt that it would change things between them irrevocably. She had to ask herself if she was ready for that, especially when she had literally just walked out of her previous relationship.

And yet, and yet…

Bella was jolted out of her reverie when she saw Edward move. She was frozen in place as he sauntered towards her, immobilised by his watchful gaze. In the next moment, he was standing in front of her, just inches away.

"Bella, I'm sorry. I've been a complete arsehole this afternoon. Please forgive me?"

Bella merely shook her head, giving him a small smile. "There's nothing to forgive, Edward. Come on, let's get out of here."

She moved away from him, grabbed their trolley and started to make her way to the checkout.

Fifteen minutes later, with their purchases stowed away in the back of the car, Bella drove them out of the car park and back to the cottage.

They didn't speak on the journey back, and once they got home they quickly unpacked the car, speaking little as they put everything away.

Edward volunteered to start dinner, as Bella revived the fire, then went upstairs to shower.

In the kitchen, Edward set about trying to distract himself from his own thoughts through the simple enjoyment of preparing their meal. In that endeavour, however, he failed miserably.

He was convinced that any chance of taking the next step with Bella was now so far off the table, it was securely hidden away in a locked cupboard—one to which he was pretty sure he no longer had the key… if, indeed, he'd ever had it. He'd crossed an invisible line and he wasn't sure how to retrieve the situation. He inwardly cursed himself for his stupidity. Bella was so far out of his league, and he had kidded himself that what they had shared in the last twenty-four hours was anything other than a fluke, borne out of two lonely people being thrown together by extraordinary circumstances.

Thus, he forced himself to accept that Bella had, quite understandably, had second thoughts about what she was getting herself into, and vowed that he would relinquish all hopes of anything more than her friendship. That, in and of itself, was of huge importance to him, and he couldn't bear to lose that as well.

No, he would make the best of it, and hope that they could continue on in the way they had before he had so recklessly and thoughtlessly abused his position in Bella's life. That he was now a part of that life was enough. At least, it would have to be.

Meanwhile, upstairs in her bathroom, Bella scrubbed herself thoroughly and washed her hair. Then she took her razor and made sure she removed every bit of extraneous and unwanted hair. Stepping out of the shower, she dried herself off and then moisturised every inch of skin she could reach. She cleansed her face, plucked several errant eyebrow hairs and smoothed on some tinted moisturiser.

Back in her bedroom, she rummaged through her underwear drawer, pulling out her best and sexiest lingerie—a pretty, dark blue, lacy bra and matching bikini-briefs, which she knew looked good against her pale skin.

Regarding herself critically in her full-length mirror—trying hard to ignore the ugly bruise on her rib cage—she told herself she didn't look bad for a woman on the cusp of thirty.

Glancing at her bedside clock, she decided she didn't have time to style her hair, so just rubbed some serum through it and blitzed it with the hairdryer. Fluffing it out around her head and shoulders, she hoped Edward would find it sexily wild, rather than think she looked more like the Wild Woman of Wonga. Giving it a final shake, she retrieved the skinny, stone-wash jeans she'd set out on the bed and pulled them on. They were tight, but made her legs look long and hopefully encased her bottom in such a way that it looked firm rather than flabby. She then took down the soft, blue, cowl-necked top from where she'd hung it earlier on the door of the wardrobe, slipping it on over her head and smoothing it down. With one more look in the mirror, she decided that she would do. She had considered putting on some makeup, but decided that it really would be over-egging the pudding. Edward knew the bruises were there and she was tired of trying to hide them.

Squaring her shoulders, she gave herself a short, inner pep-talk, pushed her feet into her fleece-lined mules, and left the room.

Walking into the kitchen, she was dismayed to find Edward sitting at the table with his elbows on the surface and his face in his hands. He was mumbling quietly to himself and seemed oblivious to her arrival.

"Edward?"

He dropped his hands and stood up so quickly that the chair fell backwards behind him.

"Jesus fuck, Bella…"

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump!" she cried, clasping a hand to her chest at his reaction.

"I… no, it's, uh, it's okay. Sorry, I was just…" He looked around him wildly, glancing at the chair and then back at her.

"Fuck, you look…" His eyes swept up and down her body. _Oh, God._

He turned away suddenly, bending to pick up the chair and willing his seemingly single-minded cock into submission. She looked amazing. The complete embodiment of female desirability, with her soft, womanly curves, lustrous mahogany hair and long, long, unbelievably sexy legs. What the hell was she trying to do to him? Just when he'd thought he had finally convinced himself that she was unattainable, she walks into the room looking like every teenager's wet-dream.

He straightened the chair, and leaned on the back of it for a moment, avoiding looking at her and trying to compose himself.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm… I'm fine."

He turned and walked quickly past her, averting his eyes.

"Good timing, dinner's almost ready. Sit down and I'll dish it up."

"Okay. Um, do you need me to do anything?" She watched him anxiously, wondering what the hell was going on inside his head. All the ease and affection they had cultivated over the last couple of days seemed to have utterly dissipated, and she was beginning to second-guess her decision to just give in to their attraction and go with the flow—in fact, she was thinking she may have totally misjudged the situation.

_But he bought 36 bloody condoms, for Christ's sake. How could I have misinterpreted that?_

Perhaps he had begun to have second thoughts, and was questioning his own feelings.

As Edward continued to avoid her gaze, Bella turned slowly and went over to the table, taking her usual seat.

As soon as she sat down, Edward walked over with two plates, setting one down in front of her and the other on his side. He picked up the bottle of wine, which was already opened, and poured them both a glass, before sitting opposite her.

"This looks great, Edward."

He threw her an all-too-brief smile and picked up his knife and fork.

"It's nothing fancy, just filet steak in a peppercorn and brandy sauce, with French beans and sautéed potatoes," he said softly.

"Umm, that sounds fantastic." She smiled at him, but he seemed to be concentrating on his food.

She picked up her glass and took a sip of wine, then began eating. The steak was cooked to perfection and the sauce was divine.

"Oh, God, this is delicious. You are so going to knock the ball out of the park at Carlisle's."

Edward gave a mirthless chuckle. "I doubt that. He showed me his proposed menu, and I haven't a clue what some of the stuff on it even is. I've got a very limited range, and none of it is the kind of food he's probably going to be serving."

"Hey, I've told you before, don't put yourself down. If you're a good cook, you can cook anything—you just need the recipe."

He shook his head, but said nothing.

Bella sighed, and tried again.

"So, you didn't really say much about how it went with Carlisle after you left."

"It was fine, I told you. He offered me the job and I start next week. I'll need a lift into the village tomorrow to meet Esme, if that's okay?"

"Of course it is. I can go to Alice's while you're meeting her."

He paused as he chewed and swallowed.

"Oh, um, and I need a favour… another favour, I should say."

Bella put down her cutlery and looked at him, waiting for him to meet her eyes, which he eventually did when she remained silent.

"Of course, name it."

"Well, he, um, said I should probably do something with my hair. He said he couldn't force me to cut it or whatever, as long as I kept it tied back, but he didn't think it went with the image he wants to create. I mean, I'm not bothered, I don't mind getting it cut, and the colour's fading, but… well, I wondered if you could maybe help me dye it closer to my natural colour. I can probably get it cut at a barber's, but I can't afford to get it coloured at a proper hairdressing place."

He looked down at his plate, but didn't continue eating.

"Oh, Edward. What is going on in that head of yours?"

He looked up at her in surprise, only to see her get up and walk round to his side of the table. She pulled out the chair beside him and sat down. Taking his knife, she put it on the table and pulled his hand into her lap, forcing him to turn to face her.

"We seem to take one step forward and two steps back. I thought we'd got to a place where you didn't feel like a beggar asking me for things."

"Bella—"

"No, listen to me. First thing's first. Tomorrow we'll go out and get some colorant—your real colour is growing through and it will be easy to find one to match. It's a really beautiful auburn. Once that's done, I'll cut it. I used to cut my aunt and uncle's hair, and a couple of guys at college used to get me to do theirs as well, so I'm pretty good at it. It's amazing what you can turn your hand to when money is tight, as I'm sure you know."

He gave her a small smile. "Thanks, that would be great."

"No problem. Now, I know things got a bit weird earlier, and I'm not quite sure why, but we are still friends, aren't we?"

He looked at her, his face blank, but inside he was dying.

"Friends, yeah, of course."

He pulled his hand from hers and turned back to the table.

"Come on, let's finish our food before it gets cold," he urged quietly.

Bella frowned, but got up and went back to her seat, and for the remainder of the meal they managed only stilted conversation. She told him about the telephone conversation with her agent, explaining that she had cancelled a book signing because of the weather, but that she would be returning to London the following week. Edward just nodded, and shortly after, got up from the table and took his plate to the sink.

_I guess that's it, then. She'll be going back and I'll have to find somewhere else to live. Fuck._

He wondered if she would let him stay at the cottage until he could find a place, or maybe Jasper and Alice could put him up for a while. He wouldn't be able to afford anything until he started earning, and he knew it would take a while to save up for rent and a deposit.

But did he even want to stay here without Bella?

He couldn't look at her when she joined him at the counter. She put her plate in the sink, and then retrieved their glasses, handing one to Edward. He took it with a soft 'thank you' and drained it.

"Shall we take the bottle and finish it in the other room?" she asked, desperately hoping she could shake him out of the funk he seemed to have fallen into.

He looked at her then, trying to decipher what she was thinking, and, not for the first time, wished he could read her mind.

"Uh, well… I thought I'd try and finish off the floorboards in your studio. If I'm starting work next week, I won't have much time after the weekend."

"Oh, okay. I'll just do the dishes then, and come up to help you when I've finished."

He started to walk towards the door, but turned to look back at her.

"No, it's okay, I can manage. You'd need to change your clothes, and… well, you, uh… you look really… pretty."

He turned and quickly exited the kitchen, but not before Bella saw two spots of colour bloom on his cheeks.

For several minutes she just stood there, looking at the spot where he'd been standing, utterly nonplussed.

An hour later, Bella had cleaned up in the kitchen and was sitting at her desk in the sitting room, staring at her laptop screen and hoping to fill the time by writing. Unfortunately, the words just wouldn't come. As she sipped her wine, she couldn't stop thinking about Edward and how everything had changed so quickly between them. On top of that, she hated the thought of him working so hard upstairs while she was down here doing nothing. Certainly, it didn't seem like she was going to get any writing done tonight.

Putting her glass down, she decided to grab a can of lager out of the fridge and take it up to Edward. At the very least, he must be thirsty, and would surely welcome a cold drink.

As she got to the top of the stairs she was stopped in her tracks by the sound of Edward's swearing.

"Mother_fuck_!"

Edward's shouted expletive galvanised Bella, and she found herself running the last few feet to the back bedroom. As she burst in through the door, she took in the scene before her.

Edward was sitting awkwardly on the floor in a spreading pool of pink-stained soapy water, the bucket lying on its side, rolling from side to side. He had one hand clasped in the other, held tightly to his chest, with a pained expression on his face.

"Edward! What happened? Are you okay?" She stepped forward, but he shouted at her to stop.

"I'm fine. Can you just get something to mop up this water before it soaks through the floorboards?"

She hesitated a moment, but then turned, leaving the room and running downstairs. In the kitchen, she found a mop and, as an afterthought, retrieved the first-aid kit, before rushing back upstairs.

Edward was now in the bathroom and she could hear the taps running. She paused to deposit the first-aid box on the toilet seat and then headed into the bedroom, where she proceeded to mop up the excess water and squeeze it back into the bucket. When she'd cleaned it up as best she could, she leaned the mop against the wall and went back to the bathroom. There, she found Edward sitting on the toilet seat, trying to staunch his bleeding hand with swathes of toilet paper.

Quickly washing her hands, she moved to stand in front of him. "Here, let me have a look," she said, taking his hand in hers. "Hold it up above your shoulder, it will help slow the bleeding."

Wordlessly, he submitted to her ministrations, and she carefully unwound the tissue from his fingers, hissing when she saw what he'd done. A large sliver of wood had sliced into the pad of his middle finger and had embedded itself deep.

"I tried to pull it out, but I couldn't get hold of it," Edward told her, wincing with the pain.

"Okay, let me have a go. Keep it up, while I find the tweezers." She stooped to pick up the box where he'd dumped it on the floor, opening it and pulling out what she needed. She dropped down on her knees in front of him and reached up for him to give her his hand. Getting a firm grip on the huge splinter with the tweezers, as gently as she could, she drew it out, as Edward cursed in pain.

As soon as it was out, she dropped the tweezers and grabbed a piece of cotton wool from the kit, pressing it to the wound. Again, Edward swore as she applied pressure, and she murmured a soft apology.

"Hold that in place, while I get the antiseptic cream and a dressing," she told him. She got up and soaked another cotton wool ball with hot water and a little of the anti-bacterial soap at the sink, then made sure his finger was clean and dry, before applying the cream and covering it with a ready-made finger bandage.

"Fuck, it's throbbing like a bastard," Edward groaned. His eyes met hers, and he gave her a small pained smile.

"Shit, Bella, I'm sorry. Did you manage to clean up the mess I made?"

She sat back on her haunches, shaking her head in frustration. "It's sorted, don't worry about that. And I have no idea why you're apologising—it was an accident. You've done a fantastic job in there, and I'm the one who's sorry that you hurt yourself doing it for me."

Edward reached his good hand out and gently ran the back of his fingers down her cheek.

"Don't you know by now, Bella? I'd do _anything_ for you, you just have to say the word." His voice was gentle, but heavy with feeling.

Bella rose up on her knees and cupped his face for a moment, chocolate eyes intent on jade. Then she slipped them round the back of his neck and pulled him forward, pressing her lips softly to his.

Edward's reaction was swift and unequivocal. He moaned into her mouth and wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against him as he intensified the kiss. His tongue slipped inside and found hers, tangling and probing as they both breathed loudly through their noses.

Pulling back, Edward gazed into eyes which he considered to be the most beautiful he'd ever seen.

"I'm sorry I've been such a little shit today, Bella. I didn't mean to push you into something you don't want—"

Bella's brow crinkled in confusion. "Who says I don't want it?"

Edward's hands slid to her waist and he pushed her back a little more.

"I just thought… you didn't look too happy about the condoms, and then when I was being pushy in B&Q, I obviously pissed you off… well, I thought you'd changed your mind…"

He dropped his gaze, and released her.

Bella sat back on her legs. "Oh, Edward, I thought you'd changed _your_ mind. Jesus, what a pair we make," she said, shaking her head and pursing her lips ruefully.

"You mean…?"

Bella pushed herself off the floor and stood up.

"I mean, let's call it a night and go to bed."

He looked up at her, eyes wide, and Bella's heart melted at the warring emotions she saw there—surprise, relief, hope and, most gratifying of all, desire.

She held out her hand, and Edward grabbed it like it was a lifeline in a stormy sea. Standing, he pulled her back into his arms, crashing his mouth to hers, kissing her with all the passion he felt for this incredible, beautiful woman.

Minutes later, the two of them walked down the passage to Bella's room and to her bed. Both were nervous, but neither had any doubts now that they were ready to take the next step towards cementing their unlikely but strangely inevitable relationship.


	16. Joined

**Chapter 16 ~ Joined**

No words were spoken nor needed. Not yet.

Moving, sure-footed, across the dark room, Bella switched on her bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. She turned and regarded Edward, where he leaned against the door, his eyes betraying his desire as he gazed at her with an intensity which both thrilled and terrified her. But any lingering insecurities which still remained had ceased to have dominion over her. No, for paramount in her thoughts was an aching, bone-deep yearning to join with this beautiful man in the most basic and primal coupling. She wanted to give herself to him in ways she didn't yet fully comprehend… and, in the giving, she knew, instinctively, that she would gain far more than she offered in return.

The silence expanded, but never seemed awkward or uncomfortable.

A soft smile lit Bella's features as, slowly and with deliberation, she ran her hands down across her chest and abdomen, before gripping the hem of her blouse and pulling it unhurriedly over her head. As she tugged it free, her hair cascaded around her face and shoulders in a cloud of silken mahogany, the lamplight glittering off the red and golden strands as it fell.

Never breaking eye contact, Bella undid her jeans and pushed them down her thighs. Bending over, her breasts spilling forward in her demi-cup bra, she eased the tight denim to her ankles, lifting first one leg and then the other as she pulled them over her feet, along with her socks, and discarded them on the floor.

Straightening, she stood for a moment, watching as Edward's eyes raked up and down her body. Such inspection from Jake had always made her feel uncomfortable, his slight sneer bringing all her insecurities to the fore. No such feelings plagued her now, as she saw only wanton, barely-controlled lust in Edward's greedy gaze.

Reaching behind her, she unsnapped her bra, bringing her hands to the front as the straps slipped off her shoulders. After barely a moment's hesitation, she dropped her arms and let the blue, lacy garment fall to the floor.

Opposite her, hands flat against the door, Edward's eyes widened as he drew in a sharp breath, failing to exhale.

Finally, Bella slipped her thumbs into either side of her blue bikini briefs and, with a small, involuntary wiggle, divested herself of the tiny scrap of material.

Across the room, Edward let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He had seen her breasts before, but now, here she stood, in all her naked glory. Illuminated from behind by the bedside lamp, she seemed to glow, and once again, the only word that sprang into his mind was 'angel'. She was incandescent. She was a Botticelli masterpiece, a Michelangelo sculpture. But more than that, she was a living, breathing goddess.

Her beauty, however, was marred by one thing.

His eyes were drawn to the ugly bruise which stained the skin across her ribcage.

Unwilling and unable to stay away from her a moment longer, he pushed himself off the door and moved towards her, like a moth to a flame, a bee to nectar, a male to his mate. He moved with languid grace, yet his long legs quickly closed the distance between them, only stopping when barely centimetres separated them. His nearness meant Bella had to tilt her head to look into his eyes—eyes which communicated all she needed to know.

His hands came up to cup her face, his long fingers sliding into her hair. Leaning his forehead against hers, he was the first to break the long silence.

"You are… Jesus, Bella, I don't know enough words to tell you how beautiful you are."

He dropped his hands, letting his fingers trail down her arm and then, very gently, drift across the purple mark on her side.

"Did _he_ do this to you?" he asked, trying hard to contain his anger.

"_Y_es… but forget it, Edward. It hardly hurts at all anymore, and I don't want to think about it—or Jake—anymore. This is _our_ time."

She smiled, slipping her hands round the back of his neck.

"Now, why don't you just kiss me," she whispered, her breath mingling with his.

He needed no further invitation. Licking his lips, he pressed them to hers, his tongue demanding entry. They had shared many kisses now, but none so imbued with raw, heated passion, or so heavy with desire. Edward's hands moved over Bella's skin, wanting to touch her _everywhere_. And when their lungs cried out for mercy, he relinquished her mouth, only to trail hot, wet kisses over every part of her he could reach… claiming her, marking her as his.

But Bella's patience was a tenuous thing, and moments later she was tugging at his t shirt, desperate to gain access to what she, too, craved.

Forcing himself to step back a little, Edward reached over his shoulders and pulled off the offending article, tossing it aside, whilst Bella transferred her attention to his jeans. Dropping to her knees she hooked her fingers inside his underwear and pulled both items of clothing down to his bare feet, whereupon he quickly stepped out of them and kicked them away. The action had allowed his engorged cock to spring free, slapping against his stomach, and Bella was quick to take him in hand.

Edward groaned loudly and stared down at her as she leaned forward, as if to take him in her mouth. God knows, he wanted that, but he knew he had to stop her. He prayed that the results of his medical would come back negative, so that he wouldn't have to wait too long to have her mouth on him.

For now, though, all he could think about was what she would taste like, and he had every intention of finding out before the night got any older.

Bending slightly, he caressed her cheek with his left hand, and pressed his thumb to her lips.

"Not tonight, Bella," he told her softly. "Tonight, I want to taste _you_."

Bella shivered as his words poured petrol on her arousal.

She let go of his rock-hard erection as he took hold of her upper arms and lifted her effortlessly to her feet. Once again, he claimed her mouth, at the same time turning her and backing her up until her legs met the side of the bed. With his hands on her waist, and without breaking the kiss, he lowered Bella to the bed and gently eased her onto her back.

At last, he removed his lips from hers, only to pepper soft kisses along her jaw and down her neck. He revelled in the sound of Bella's heightened breathing and softly murmured encouragements. Reaching her breasts, he suckled on her dusky pink nipples, first one, then the other, his tongue urging the pebbled flesh to swollen, rigid nubs. With Bella's fingers massaging his scalp, he allowed himself the luxury of feasting on her perfect tits, before moving down her body.

When he reached her abdomen, he trailed his lips and tongue from one side to the other, until his mouth settled on her bruised ribs. With a gentleness which belied his desperate need, he laid the softest butterfly kisses all across her mottled flesh—and with that single, deeply compassionate gesture, Bella finally felt healed. More significantly, perhaps, she realised that Edward wanted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.

Even as she processed that thought, he was moving on, continuing his exploration of her body with a relish that left her breathless. Pausing only briefly to probe her bellybutton with his tongue, making her moan loudly at the sheer eroticism of it, he wasted no more time in heading to that which he had been longing for this past week.

As his ministrations rendered Bella ever more vocal, Edward teased and tormented her fevered flesh until she could barely stand it. Jake had never gone down on her, but now that Edward was so close, she could do nothing but mewl and plead for his mouth and tongue to go to that one needy spot.

And then… _oh, God…_he was there.

Nothing in her life prior to this moment had prepared Bella for the exquisite pleasure of a man's skilfully-wielded tongue, lips and fingers. And as Edward buried his face between her legs, it quickly became evident, despite her inexperience in such matters, that Edward was very skilful indeed.

He had pulled her forward, propping her left leg on his shoulder, and guiding her right foot to rest on the base board of the bed. Spread wide for his delectation, he employed every trick he'd ever learned, feasting on her like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

As Bella lurched and undulated above him, he relished every curse and gasp, every plea and shout, as he brought her close, then left her wanting. Each time, her cries grew louder, her language filthier, and her opening wetter. Finally, as she screamed for release, Edward sucked her clit between his lips and rubbed two fingertips hard over the rough skin of Bella's G-spot. This action caused her to buck against his face and wail his name over and over. She threw both arms over her face, gasping for air, as the most powerful orgasm she'd ever experienced tore through her with the force of a tidal wave.

Edward stood, wiping his face on the back of his hand, and climbed up on the bed. He took hold of Bella's boneless arms and gently pulled them from her face, dipping his head to kiss her open mouth.

Pulling back slightly, he gazed down at her hooded brown eyes. The taste of herself on his lips and tongue only served to increase her desire tenfold.

"Condoms, Bella… where are they?" he asked, a slightly desperate edge to his voice.

For a moment, she just looked at him in confusion, as though he had spoken in a foreign language.

"Bella? God, I need to be inside you. What did you do with the condoms?" he asked again.

"Uh, drawer… bedside…" she finally responded, lifting one hand briefly to point behind him, before dropping it heavily back to the bed.

Despite his need, Edward couldn't help grinning at her, before turning to open the indicated drawer. Grabbing the box he found there, he quickly opened it and tore off the first condom from the strip inside. Ripping it open, he wasted no time rolling it onto his aching cock, as Bella managed to find the strength to pull herself up the bed so that her legs were no longer dangling over the edge. Propped up on her elbows she watched as he smoothed the prophylactic over his large, blood-infused dick.

She thought it was beautiful.

She thought _he_ was beautiful.

And, unlike any man before him, he made _her_ feel beautiful.

Now she watched, as he dropped to all fours on the bed and moved towards her, almost feline in his grace, his eyes like deep green marbles. Automatically, she opened her legs, her own eyes now drawn to his engorged penis as it bobbed and twitched. Hell's teeth, but she wanted it.

Hovering above her, Edward felt almost overwhelmed by his feelings for Bella.

She had saved his life. Got him a job. Given him a home.

And now she was giving _herself_ to him in every way that counted.

He sank down on top of her so that they were face to face, skin to skin, heart to heart.

"I love… making you come," he rasped, kissing her to forestall any further possibility he might fuck this up before he even got inside her body.

Bella wrapped her arms around his shoulders, stroking the smooth skin there. She arched her back slightly, inviting him in.

"Make love to me, Edward," she murmured against his ear.

He put his weight on one elbow, reaching between them with his free hand to align himself with her.

She sighed as she felt him at her entrance, her sigh turning to a gasp as he pushed slowly into her.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, as he felt her envelop him, her slick, tight passage hugging every inch of his thick cock.

Bella jerked up, and he slid all the way in, their cries overlapping at the intense pleasure of his welcome invasion.

"Jesus Christ, Bella… oh, God, you feel… fucking amazing," he gasped, pulling almost all the way out, and then back again, over and over, each time going deeper.

As they found their rhythm, Bella wrapped her long legs around him, holding him tighter… closer to her. She didn't care whether she came again—this, right here… his body moving inside hers, was so good, so unbelievably pleasurable, that another orgasm became almost surplus to requirement. She had never climaxed through penetration alone, so it had long since stopped being something she expected or chased.

However, it seemed her expectations were about to be well and truly exceeded.

As Edward continued to move, she felt the tell-tale tingling begin in her abdomen, spurred on by his whispered words. He described how good she felt, how incredible she was, how beautiful. He made her feel precious, cherished, special… loved.

She pulled his face down, capturing his lips in a frantic kiss. No one had ever made her feel this way, and her pleasure radiated through her body as her orgasm built, slowly but, oh, so surely.

His name fell from her lips, on and on, like a litany. There was nothing else, just him… his name the only coherent word in her head, as she came around him, her muscles contracting and flexing, pulling him with her.

In the grip of his own orgasm, he cried out, her name a gasped entreaty, a prayer, a promise, and then he buried his face in her neck, lest he tell her he loved her. But he knew, in that moment of supreme bliss—the like of which he'd never known before—that he did love her. What's more, he had no doubt that, regardless of what the future held, he would love this woman until the day he died.

Collapsing on top of Bella, Edward could feel the sting of tears, his heart full to bursting. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. He held on tightly, panting hard as he planted wet, breathless kisses on her neck and shoulder. To say he was gratified that Bella's grip seemed equally unyielding, would have been a massive understatement.

**~o0o~  
**

Lying in one another's arms, bathed in a post-coital glow which utterly negated the dropping temperature of the room, the two lovers reflected silently on what had just passed between them. Their thoughts were remarkably in sync, although neither of them was quite ready yet to vocalise the depth of their feelings.

Edward knew he had found not just salvation, but a place where he belonged. Not since Marcus and Molly had briefly entered his life, had he ever felt so at peace with his lot in life. He had never had to question Marcus's love, because he had shown it in his every utterance and action, almost from the first moment they'd met. But it was gone all too soon. The situation with Bella was different, of course, but from the time she had stopped to pick him up on that freezing roadside, she had shown him such kindness and affection, that he could hardly doubt her regard for him. Their lovemaking of moments ago only confirmed that this was more than a passing phase.

He wasn't a fool. He knew that they had only known each other for a very short time, and if his life before had taught him nothing else, it had made him aware that there were no guarantees. He was pragmatic enough to understand that shit happens, and no one could know their future, but he was determined to grab on to this chance and do everything in his power to make it last.

Beside him, held securely in the crook of his arm, with her head on his chest, Bella slid her fingers up and down the line of dark copper hair which trailed from his chest to his bellybutton, and beyond, to that part of his anatomy with which she had recently become intimately—and deliciously—acquainted.

There hadn't been a lot of men in Bella's past. At college, the constraints of her studies, along with having to work long hours to pay for her tuition, tended to preclude too many romantic entanglements. Also, then as later, the fact that she lived with her aunt and uncle in a very small house, meant that it was difficult to pursue any meaningful relationships. Thus, sex had not formed a large part of her life, and when it did, it was far from awe-inspiring.

No, the earth had never moved for Bella, and even when she'd met Jake, she had never really experienced that kind of toe-curling, all-encompassing… _oneness_ that she'd read about. Sex with Jake was okay—she had even got close to coming a couple of times, but he had never seemed to be able to take her over the edge. Now, when she thought back on it, she realised that Jake was a selfish lover. He had never gone down on her, although he frequently wanted her mouth on him. His idea of foreplay was a quick boob-grope, followed by an even quicker fingering, before he was climbing on top and pushing in, often before she was really ready. He was, she supposed, pretty average-sized—certainly, he wasn't as big as Edward, she thought, with an inward sigh—which turned out to be a blessing. But what he lacked in skills, he made up for in stamina—which was much less of a blessing. He would bang away for what seemed like hours, until she felt the need to flex her vaginal muscles and make the requisite noises to indicate her satisfaction, which would then generally trigger Jake's more than welcome release.

With the benefit of hindsight, Bella now understood that a big part of the reason she stayed with Jake for so long was her gratitude to him. He had opened the door for her to flourish as an artist and a writer, and had introduced her to a life of plenty. She had struggled for so long to make ends meet, that it was easy for her to be seduced by his money and lifestyle. Worse, she had confused his possessiveness for devotion, and her own gratitude for love.

She had been weak and foolish, vowing to herself that she would never again enter into such a one-sided relationship. Yet, here she was, just days after walking out on Jake, in the arms of another man. She forced herself to question her motives, to consider objectively what was going on with Edward. Was she a fool for starting something so quickly with him? Perhaps she was, but regardless of the speed with which she had fallen into bed with him, she couldn't bring herself to regret it, no matter what happened in the future.

Was it just the phenomenal sex? She really didn't think so. Yes, it had been everything and more she could ever have hoped for, but she suspected that it wouldn't have been half so good without the remarkable connection the two of them had already made.

In the final analysis, Bella truly believed she was right where she was supposed to be, and, whatever happened going forward, she prayed that Edward would be a major part of it. The thought made her smile and she turned her head to kiss the skin beneath her, loving the feel of his soft chest hair against her lips.

"Hey, what are you thinking so hard about?" he murmured from above her.

She rolled further against him, slipping her leg between his and resting both hands on his chest. Propping her chin on her entwined fingers, she looked up at him and smiled.

"I was just thinking about how much I want to do that again."

Edward couldn't contain the grin which practically split his face.

"Well, you're in luck, because I was just thinking the exact same thing."

He reached down and pulled her up to him so that he could kiss her beautiful mouth, allowing her to straddle him.

As their tongues began their slow dance, and Edward's cock instantly stiffened beneath her, Bella found herself ruminating on the advantages of having a nineteen-year-old lover.

**~o0o~  
**

Come morning, Bella woke to a disappointingly empty bed. She could hear Edward downstairs and a look at the clock told her that, at gone nine o'clock, he was unlikely to be coming back to warm the sheets, or, indeed, her.

She got up and decided to take a shower, finding herself wishing Edward was here to share it—something she had never even considered with previous boyfriends.

Climbing slowly out of bed, she couldn't suppress a shiver of pleasure when she realised she could still feel him inside her. The memory of him filling her again and again made her tingle and throb, as an involuntary moan escaped her. With a sigh, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Emerging some twenty minutes later, wrapped in a towel, Bella was taken aback when the door of her room swung open and a grinning Edward appeared holding a tray laden with food and drinks, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

The smile dropped from his face when he saw that Bella was not only awake, but apparently showered and preparing to dress.

"Oh, I was hoping we could have breakfast in bed," he announced, his voice laced with disappointment.

Bella's response was to drop her towel and grab her robe from the end of the bed. Then, as Edward watched, she climbed back into bed, plumped her pillows up behind her, and sat back with an expectant look on her face. Immediately, Edward's smile returned. He walked across the room and set the tray on the end of the bed. Quickly stripping down to his boxers, he climbed in beside Bella and pulled the tray over.

"I made loads, 'cause I didn't know what you'd fancy," he told her, glancing from her face to the tray full of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, cereal, toast, marmalade, orange juice and tea.

Bella laughed, picking up a piece of buttered toast and taking a bite.

"Well, what I fancy is _you_, but this will do for starters," she smirked.

Edward grinned and leaned in to steal a quick kiss, before pouring the tea.

An hour later, replete with food, and sated from another round of lovemaking, they got started again in the spare room. Working with renewed enthusiasm, they made good progress on preparing the surfaces for decorating, despite frequent pauses to kiss and make out.

Edward had to go to the restaurant to meet Esme Cullen at three o'clock, so they called it a day at noon, so they could shower and eat lunch. Clearing up, they had a little time before they needed to leave, and Bella asked Edward to sit down for a chat. Settling themselves down at the kitchen table, cups of hot tea in front of them, she decided now was as good a time as any to discuss some things she had been thinking about.

"There's a couple of things I wanted to talk about, Edward—and don't look so worried, it's nothing bad." She smiled at the momentary concern she saw in his eyes.

"First, we need to figure out how you're going to get to and from work, and I was thinking maybe I should buy a small run-around car that you could use—"

She stopped when she saw his face fall and his hands fly to his hair.

"Fuck, Bella, that's ridiculous." He sighed when he saw her bristle, dropping his hands to the table and grabbing both of hers. "I'm sorry, that came out all wrong. Look, I appreciate what you're saying, really I do, but it's too much. And besides, I can't drive."

"Oh. Shit, I never thought of that. Well, we're going to have to sort out getting you lessons so you can pass your test."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Lessons are expensive, Bella. Let me worry about that when I start earning."

Bella frowned, but didn't argue—for the moment.

"Well, how are you going to get to work? I won't be able to drive you all the time."

"I'll walk, it's only about a mile into the village. And then, when I get paid, I could probably look into buying a second-hand push-bike."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of you riding a bike on these country roads in the dark. Even when the clocks change, you'll still be coming home in the dark, and there are hardly any street lights."

"I'll make sure to get good lights on the bike, and I'll wear a helmet and some kind of reflective clothing—will that satisfy you?"

Bella sighed. "I don't know, you hear such awful stories of people being knocked off their bikes in the dark," she said, pursing her lips and frowning.

"I'll be fine, really. Please, let me worry about all that."

Bella wasn't happy about it, but once again decided to let it go for now.

"Okay, but please promise me you'll think about the driving lessons. You have to forget about the money, Edward, it means nothing to me. I've told you before, I have plenty, and very little to spend it on."

Edward let go of her hands and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know that, Bella, but you have to understand, I've been looking after myself for a long time, and I don't want to be a… a _kept_ man."

Bella realised her mistake immediately. She left her seat and came round to his side of the table, dropping to her knees beside him. Putting her hands on his thigh, she looked up at him, her face full of contrition.

"Oh, Edward, I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot. Please forgive me, I didn't mean to imply… I don't ever want you to think that I see you that way. Please, Edward?"

He turned in his chair and pulled her up from the floor so that she was sitting on his lap, his arms around her waist.

"I know you don't, Bella, and there's nothing to forgive. I know it comes from a good place, and that if it wasn't for you we wouldn't even be talking about this. It's just… God, how do I say this?"

Bella looped her hands round his neck, burying her fingers in his hair. "Just say it, Edward, I won't take offense."

He smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her softly.

Pulling back, he closed his eyes for a moment.

"It's just that, having been given this opportunity, I want to… I don't know… prove myself? I want to show that I can do this, that I'm not, well, a complete fuck-up—"

"Oh, Edward, I know you're not."

"No, Bella, you don't. I know things between us have moved unbelievably quickly, and that we're maybe at a place that other couples might take weeks, even months to get to. But we still don't know each other that well. A week ago I was living in a squat; my only friends were in the same position. If they could see me now, they'd think I'd fallen on my feet big-time—and there's no doubt I have. I've used drugs and… well, let's just say, I haven't always stayed on the right side of the law—but I still want to prove that, whatever good fortune has come my way, I can be more than just a guy who got lucky… that I'm not just going to sit back on my arse and let you—or anyone—take care of me. I have to do this for myself. Do you get what I mean?"

Bella nodded slowly, and then leaned in to capture his mouth. She parted her lips and he reciprocated immediately, his tongue finding hers as they both willingly deepened the kiss.

When they parted, he smiled at her, bringing one hand up to sweep several strands of hair away from her face.

"That doesn't mean I don't need you, or your support. I do. Without it… without _you_… well, right now I don't even want to think about that. But if I succeed, I want it to be because I worked fucking hard for it, and if I fail, I need to know that the only person I can blame for that is me."

"You won't fail. Of that, I have absolutely no doubt," she told him sincerely.

He smiled, but didn't respond, choosing, instead, to change the subject.

"So, that was one thing. What else did you want to talk about?"

"Oh, yeah. Um, well, I kind of mentioned it last night over dinner. I have to go to London next week for a book signing. I'll have to stay overnight, and I just wanted to let you know."

"Yeah, I remember. At the time, I thought you meant…"

Bella frowned. "Meant what?"

Edward shook his head and smiled ruefully at her.

"Well, I kind of thought that you were going back for good, that you were… leaving me."

Bella's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. The next moment she pulled him close, tightening her arms around his shoulders and burying her head in his neck.

After a moment, she pulled back, only to drop a tender kiss on his mouth.

"Oh, sweetheart, how could you think that I would leave you?"

"Ignore me, I was just being stupid, I know that now."

She nodded, recognising her own insecurities in his.

"If you hadn't got a job, I would have suggested you come with me, but it's only one night and then I'll be back. I've got some other stuff coming up in December, but we can worry about that later. In the meantime, we should probably get going. After you've met Mrs Cullen, we can get some hair dye and I'll get another key cut for you. Then we'll come back and sort out this mop and have a nice dinner." She ruffled his hair, making him smile.

"Sounds good to me. Come on, let's go before I haul you upstairs to have my wicked way with you again."

She giggled and slid off his knee, aware that he was only half-joking.

"Oh, there's one more thing," she said, taking his hand and leading the way to the sitting room. He watched curiously as she went over to her desk and pulled out the top drawer. Turning around he could see she had a small white box in her hands, and as she drew closer he realised it was a mobile phone.

He frowned. "What's this, Bella?"

"Now, don't start. You're going to need a phone. I bought it last week when I got one for myself. Carlisle will need to be able to get hold of you, and if I'm going to be travelling, I definitely will want to be able to call you. So don't argue with me—this is just as much a necessity as decent clothes and shoes. And once you start earning, you can start paying for it yourself. Okay?"

She looked up at him, hoping against hope he wouldn't make a fuss or try to refuse it.

Edward sighed, taking the box from her hands and looking at it.

"You're too good to me, Bella." He stared at it for a long minute, and then finally raised his eyes to hers.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I'll pay you back, I promise."

Bella shook her head, a little surprised at how easy it had been to persuade him, but delighted that he hadn't argued with her impeccable logic.

"You pay me back every single day, Edward."

She reached up, putting her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him.

"Come on, let's go. You don't want to be late."


	17. Plans

**Chapter 17 ~ Plans**

Bella sat by the fire in the bookshop café, her hands cupped around a large mug of hot chocolate. She watched Alice walk towards her and smiled at her, as she set down her own cup of tea and a plate containing two Danish pastries.

"You're a wicked woman, Alice—you're going to make me fat if you keep tempting me with sticky treats!"

"Pfft, it's winter and we need to load up on carbs to combat the cold."

Bella chuckled, putting down her drink, tearing off a piece of her Danish and popping it into her mouth.

"So, talking of sticky treats… you and Edward?" Alice said, regarding Bella impassively over the rim of her cup as she sipped her tea.

Bella swallowed a too-hot mouthful of her drink, her eyes wide as she stared at her friend. She knew the blush she could feel spreading over her face gave her away, but had no idea how to respond.

"Come on, you walked in here this afternoon with the self-satisfied look of a woman who's been given the seeing-to of her life… am I right or am I right?"

Bella couldn't help the smile which broke across her face. "You are way too perceptive, Alice Whitlock," she said, shaking her head.

"It's a gift! Look, tell me to mind my own business, but when we first met, you and Edward were dancing around one another like cats on a hot tin roof, and obviously didn't know each other well. But then, the other night at our place, you and he could hardly keep your eyes or hands off one another. I'm guessing you were still working things out, but now I detect a definite air of… gratification!"

Bella laughed aloud, and then took another sip of her hot chocolate. Alice simply regarded her evenly, not wanting to pry, but desperately curious.

After several minutes of silence, Bella sighed. Despite having only just met, she had to admit there was something about Alice that she instinctively trusted, and it was a long time since she'd had a friend she could confide in—not since Rose, in fact. Coming to a decision, she put her drink down and sat back.

"You're right—on pretty much all counts. Edward and I met the night we drove down here… the same night we met you and Jasper."

Alice's eyebrows shot up, and she set her tea down firmly on the coffee table. "Gosh, how exciting! I'm officially intrigued, so spill the beans, missy," she said, turning sideways on the couch to face Bella with a 'tell me everything' expression on her face.

So Bella told her. About her first glimpse of Edward, then picking him up on the side of the road, where he was close to freezing to death. She described her overwhelming attraction to him, and how, despite their different backgrounds, she had felt so in tune with a complete stranger. She went on to explain about Jake, and her reasons for leaving, and the fact that, in just a few days, she had come to feel more for Edward than she had in nearly two years with her ex-boyfriend.

Finally, she told Alice that she and Edward had slept together the last couple of nights, and that last night they had given in to their feelings. She mentioned nothing about Edward's past, other than to say he had been unemployed and living in very poor conditions in London, prompting his decision to start afresh in Bristol. The rest, she knew, was Edward's story to tell.

"Oh my God, that is sooo romantic. Oh, Bella, you could write a book about it… oh, oh, you actually _could_ write a book about it," she exclaimed gleefully, making Bella chuckle.

"And now you have your lovely cottage, and Edward's got a job—oh, I do love a happy ending." Alice smiled broadly, and squeezed Bella's arm affectionately.

"I'm not sure about a happy ending—we have a lot of… stuff to think about and sort out. I have no idea what's going to happen, or even if we're in the least bit compatible long term, but…"

"But you really like him, don't you? And he absolutely adores you, I can tell. I've got such a good feeling about this, Bella. I knew the moment I met you both that we would be great friends, and that you and Edward were meant for each other. I know these things," she said, tapping the side of her nose.

Bella laughed, shaking her head, but there was something about Alice that made her think that perhaps she did know 'these things'… something a little bit… _fey_ about her. However, she was unprepared for Alice's next question.

"So, how was it? I bet he's good, isn't he? He's just got that look about him," she said conspiratorially.

"Jesus, Alice," Bella spluttered, blushing furiously.

"Oh, please, you know you're dying to tell me," she giggled.

Bella groaned, throwing her head back against the sofa cushions. Her mind automatically took her back to the previous night and, indeed, early morning, and she couldn't help the little shiver of pleasure that rippled through her when she thought about making love with Edward.

She turned her head to look at Alice, who was practically bouncing in her seat.

"It was un-fucking-believable, Alice, I kid you not. He's amazing, just… amazing. It's… God, it's never been like that for me_, ever_, and all I can think about is getting him home and doing it again."

She covered her hands with her face and groaned, appalled at her own candour, yet so happy and relieved to finally vocalise her feelings to someone else.

"I _knew_ it! Dammit, you're making me horny, and Jazz has gone into work today. The snow is a bugger, but there's a lot to be said for being stuck indoors for days. I mean, there's only so much Scrabble one can play! But now that the thaw has started, I'll have to wait until tonight to ravish my husband."

The two friends giggled, talking openly now about their respective partners. In fact, the time flew by, and although Alice flitted back and forth to deal with customers and enquiries, their conversation flowed in the way of women who have been friends since childhood. So much so, that when Edward eventually turned up, Bella was surprised to see they had been talking for almost three hours, and it was time for Alice to shut up shop.

"Goodness, Edward, has Carlisle had you beavering away in the restaurant all this time?" Alice asked, as he clasped Bella's hand where it lay on the back of the sofa. He wanted to bend down to kiss her, but was unsure of her reaction to such an overt PDA, and was, in any case, distracted by the other woman's enquiry.

"Um, no… I just had another, uh, appointment," he responded vaguely, not wanting to tell her about his visit to the doctor's surgery. Bella had had an earlier appointment, dropping him off at the restaurant on her way there, and agreeing to meet him afterwards at Alice's. Now, with Edward's arrival, she stood up, wanting to forestall any further questions from Alice, and keen to get him alone to find out how he'd got on.

Making their excuses, the couple walked to the car through the slushy streets, and headed home.

"So, how did it all go?" Bella asked, unable to remain silent, despite the short journey time.

Edward smiled, covering her left hand where it rested on the gearstick.

"It was fine. Let's talk when we get in."

Back indoors, Edward built the fire up, and then joined Bella in the kitchen to help with dinner. Once it was underway, she poured herself a glass of wine while Edward got himself a lager from the fridge. Choosing to sit at the table in the warmth of the kitchen, they talked about his day.

"Esme Cullen is great. I told her about being homeless and never having a proper job, and she's going to sort out getting my National Insurance number* and getting me registered for work with the Inland Revenue so they can issue a tax code. She's also setting up a staff pension scheme, and is looking into other benefits, like private medical insurance. It's amazing, Bella… it's… I know this sounds daft, but it makes me feel like I'm a real person… like I'm part of the world at last… that I'm not invisible anymore—do you know what I mean? I can't wait for you to meet her—you'll absolutely love her."

Bella nodded in understanding. He'd never been invisible to her, but she realised that this opportunity with the Cullens must be such a monumental validation for Edward after so many years of living outside of societal norms.

She smiled at his enthusiasm, and was content to listen while he talked about his meeting, and the subsequent time he'd spent with Carlisle, finding his way round the newly-completed kitchen. His earlier doubts about his capabilities seemed to have been laid to rest, as he described how helpful and encouraging his new boss had been. He couldn't hide the proud smile he wore when he told Bella about Carlisle's praise over his preparation techniques and his knowledge of herbs and spices. It seemed the man had set Edward some tests, which he had passed with flying colours, and he was full of excitement for starting work and learning from his new mentor.

Bella was over the moon that he had found someone he could trust and look up to, and told him firmly that she had never doubted that he would succeed.

"And how about your medical? Is everything okay?" she asked, reaching across the table to take his hand.

"Well, I've got to wait for the results of the blood tests, but he did say it's unlikely I've got gonorrhoea, as I don't have a discharge or any pain. Maybe I did always remember to use a condom with Tanya."

Bella grimaced, causing Edward to wince a little.

"Sorry, it's a pretty horrible thing to be talking about just before we eat dinner," he added sheepishly.

"No, it's okay, we need to be able to talk about these things. So, that's one to cross off the list. What else?"

"Uh, well he said he can't rule it out. Some men don't have any symptoms, which is why it's so dangerous, but he thinks I'm probably clear. He said the one to worry about is chlamydia, which is really common but doesn't seem to have any symptoms at all… and it can cause, uh, infertility in women. So I really don't want to pass that on to you."

Bella smirked. "It's a bit early to be talking about babies, isn't it?"

"What?! Fuck, no! I mean… _fuck_, Bella!" He sat back, staring at her wide-eyed and dragging both hands furiously through his hair.

She laughed. "Calm down, Edward, there's no need to panic. I'm just messing with you."

He narrowed his eyes, a brooding expression darkening his features, and Bella felt her heart rate pick up. She'd never seen that look on his face before and she had the wild idea that it might well cause her to spontaneously start ovulating. She shivered, despite the warmth of the room.

"I might have to make you pay for that, Miss Swan," he said, his voice rough with desire.

Ten minutes later, the dinner turned off, Bella was flat on her back on the couch, making an appropriately substantial payment.

**~o0o~  
**

The following morning, Bella made good on her promise to colour Edward's hair, then sat him down in the bathroom while she cut it into a more catering-friendly style. She wasn't an expert, but she knew how to layer and shape, and when she'd finished, she was pretty pleased with the result. She had kept it fairly short on the sides, but left it longer on top, tapering it to a sleek 'duck's arse' at the nape of his neck.

She was keen to ensure that she still had something to hang onto during the throes of the very considerable passion Edward aroused in her.

She applied a little gel to give it volume, and then dusted him off so he could check it out in the mirror. She had been surprised at just how wavy Edward's hair turned out to be, realising that the length alone had been partially controlling what she could see was a naturally chaotic and haphazard style. But now, without that constraint, it seemed to stick up every which way, giving him a somewhat raffish, freshly-fucked look.

_Oh crap… like he needed to be any sexier._

She watched as he ran his fingers through it tentatively, checking it out from first one side and then the other.

His silence started to make her feel nervous. "What do you think? Is it okay? I think the colour worked really well," she said uncertainly, biting her lip.

It had been harder than she thought to match up Edward's original hair colour—it really was a unique shade somewhere between auburn, copper and bronze. However, she managed to find a reasonably close match with a dark blonde copper colorant, which she thought looked pretty good.

He turned and grinned at her, and Bella was momentarily paralysed by just how handsome he looked. Without the distraction and cover of his long, multi-coloured hair, his finely chiselled features were thrown into stark relief, and he was, quite simply… stunning. The colour was also a near-perfect match for his light stubble and overall body hair.

She had thought him beautiful before; now, he literally took her breath away.

It occurred to Bella that, once the restaurant opened, it wouldn't just be the food that brought in the customers—as soon as the women in the village clapped eyes on Edward like this, they would be queuing around the block for a table, and insisting on personally complimenting the chef.

He stepped forward, frowning slightly. "I was going to say I love it, but if you don't like it, then I'm not sure I do."

He pulled her into his arms and rested his forehead against hers.

"Are you kidding me, Edward? God above, I'm going to have to beat the girls off with a stick. All I want to do now is drag you back to bed!"

He chuckled, kissing her softly. "I hope you're not expecting me to say no to that, because that's _never_ gonna happen!"

It was lunchtime before the two of them made it back downstairs.

**~o0o~**

Thus, the days passed and the snow receded, until it was nought but a memory. Bella's first trip to London passed without incident, and the welcome she received on her return was everything and more she could have hoped for. Edward started work at the as yet unopened restaurant, learning his trade and revelling in the opportunity he'd been given to get paid for doing something he loved. The work was hard, but he embraced it, much to the delight of Carlisle and Esme, who quickly realised that their new young recruit was likely to turn into a major asset.

On opening night, Bella, Alice and Jasper were given the best table, and the restaurant was sold out. Bella missed having Edward by her side, but was beyond proud when the food turned out to be exceptional. The local newspaper ran a half-page article, with a glowing report from their food and drink critic, and, despite the recession, bookings were solid right through into the new year. Then, just days after opening, unbeknownst to anyone, the notoriously hard-to-please food critic from _The Guardian_ national newspaper visited incognito. The review which followed was beyond Carlisle and Esme's wildest hopes and expectations, especially the part about it only being a matter of time before the awards started rolling in. Without a doubt, the article put 'Cullenary Quisine' firmly on the map and on the Michelin Committee's radar.

Meanwhile, Bella was writing, and, not only was it clear she would have a first draft of her second book finished well before the deadline, but she knew it was good—better, in fact, than 'The Dark House'. Alice became her unofficial pre-reader, all her experience in the book trade making her the ideal sounding-board, and her enthusiasm knew no bounds.

In between writing, trips to London and preparations for a major pre-Christmas book-signing tour, Bella worked on the artwork she had promised for the shop. Alice had decided to host a small exhibition in the café; she was going to clear the space to turn it into a gallery for the evening, serving wine and canapés at a ticket-only event. As promised, Bella had contacted Angela Weber, who had managed to rearrange her schedule in order to attend, and the proceeds would go to a children's charity of which she had recently become patron.

So, life was good.

On a typically cold, drizzly afternoon in early December, as Bella turned onto the road which would take her to Chipping Mallard, she found herself sighing with pleasure at the thought of returning after a day and a half in London. She reflected, with some surprise, that she now truly considered this place to be her home. Having been born and raised, and lived all her life in the capital, it came as quite a shock that she could ever be happy anywhere else, but she knew that this was where she belonged.

Her relationship with Edward was going from strength to strength. Two weeks after their medicals, they had both received the all-clear from the doctor, and this had led to a good deal more variety in their sex life.

She smiled to herself when she thought about it. Their lovemaking had already been pretty mind-blowing, but once they were freed from the constraints of condoms, it became a lot more spontaneous and utterly explosive. Despite long hours at the restaurant, Edward's appetite for her seemed insatiable, and she was more than happy to respond. They explored one another with dedication and wonder, each constantly seeking out new ways to please the other. Indeed, Bella sometimes asked herself whether it might be possible to die of pleasure, and now fully understood the French term for orgasm, _la petite mort.* _

The thought made her clench her thighs in anticipation as she swung the car in through the cottage gates. She hoped Edward might be able to slip away early from work tonight, because a day and a half away from him was making her feel anxious and horny—not a good combination.

Chasing hard on the heels of that thought, however, was the even more unpleasant realisation that in just over a week's time she would be embarking on a seven-day book-signing and media tour. They had, of course, talked about Edward asking for time off to accompany her, but in the run-up to Christmas, Carlisle simply couldn't spare his star sous-chef. They were both dreading it, but trying very hard not to let it show. Bella kept telling herself that once she was back, she would have a whole month at home with him, before she had to travel again, but it was still hard to think about the long separation.

She was broken out of her dreary musings by the car door being wrenched open.

"What the hell are you doing sitting out here?"

Bella gasped at the sight of Edward standing beside the car, hair awry and eyes wide.

"What are you doing home?" was her somewhat confused response.

In answer, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her from her seat, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair.

"I missed you," he whispered against her neck.

"Oh, Edward, I missed you too," she said, tightening her own embrace.

After a long moment, he pulled back and cupped her face. His eyes danced all over her face, before dropping to her lips. And then he was kissing her.

Minute after minute, they stood in the drizzling rain as they ravaged one another's mouths.

At last, when they both started to feel the cold damp seeping into their hair and clothes, they broke apart.

"Come on, let's get you inside. I don't have a lot of time," he said, taking her hand and leading her around to the back of the car. He collected her bag from the boot and they quickly ran inside, slamming the door on the wintery night.

As Bella went to walk towards the sitting room, Edward caught hold of her arm and pulled her back to him, encircling her in his arms. He moved her back against the wall and pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue demanding entry. Bella was happy to give it, her hands drifting up to the back of his neck and his thick, lustrous hair. It was still a bit of a shock sometimes to find it so short, but she had little time to dwell on it, as Edward pressed himself against her, escalating the kiss.

His hands were everywhere. Sliding inside her suit jacket, he fisted her blouse and yanked it free of her skirt, lifting it up to cup and squeeze her breasts through the silky gauze of her bra. Then, before she could even register the sensation, his hands were sliding down her body, reaching low to the hem of her skirt and sliding up her thighs. She was wearing stockings, and his groan as he felt soft, smooth skin sent shockwaves straight to her groin.

"Oh, fuck, Bella, I want you so bad," he moaned against her jaw.

She could feel him, hot and hard against her thigh, and when he slipped his hand inside her underwear, she gasped loudly and hitched her leg up over his hip.

He fumbled with the button of his jeans, as he began to stroke her with two long, dextrous fingers. Bella couldn't wait, flicking his hand away from his zip and delving into his boxers to free his rigid cock.

"_Fuuucck_!"

"Yes, Edward… _do it!_" she murmured.

He grabbed both her thighs and hoisted her up against the wall, whilst Bella pulled her soaking knickers to one side. With one hand cupping her bottom, he wrapped his other hand round his oozing dick and lined himself up.

Then, with one hard thrust, he was inside her, both of them crying out as he buried himself to the hilt.

Immediately, he set up a punishing rhythm, fucking her hard and fast, her back sliding up and down against the wall. Their cries and groans echoed around the hallway, the slap of flesh their only accompaniment. Bella could feel her orgasm building as her toes began to curl inside her boots and her calf muscles tightened.

"Jesus, Edward," she mumbled, as he brought her closer and closer.

"Fuck, yesss," he hissed, each upward thrust causing his pubic bone to collide with her clit, eliciting gasps and curses in equal measure.

Suddenly, without further warning, Bella's muscles clenched and she was falling, falling over the edge, her arms and legs tightening around Edward as he continued to piston frantically into her.

"_Fuuuccck!"_ Edward's orgasm ripped through him, causing his legs to buckle. He turned as quickly as his trembling limbs would allow, clutching Bella to him as he slid to the floor, using the wall for support. She clung to him like a limpet, wanting—no, needing—him to remain inside her, just for a little while longer. She could feel their mingled juices seeping down her thighs and knew it would soak her stockings and stain his jeans, but right now she couldn't have moved if the house were on fire.

Heads buried in one another's necks, they remained silent as they waited for their hearts to slow and their breath to return. When at last they could breathe more easily, Bella pulled back slightly and looked into Edward's beautiful green eyes, smiling at him as she brushed a thumb gently across his kiss-swollen lips.

He brought his hand round to take hers, lightly kissing her palm.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi." Her smile widened. "I guess you really did miss me, huh?"

"You have no idea." He straightened his legs, causing his deflated cock to slip out of her. "Come on, I need to shower and get back to work. Carlisle said he'd get Eric to do my prep-work, so I could be here when you got home, but I don't want to take the piss."

Bella nodded and got up, holding her hand out to help him as he scrambled to his feet.

"I'll give you a lift," she told him as they made their way upstairs.

"That's okay, you must be tired. I'll ride my bike."

A week after Edward had started work, Carlisle had taken him out the back and shown him a bicycle leaning against the wall. He'd told him that it was an old bike that a friend of his didn't want anymore, so he'd got it cheap, and Edward could have it for thirty pounds, which he could give him out of his first pay cheque. Edward suspected that it was a much more expensive purchase than Carlisle had indicated, but the fact that he was making him pay _something_ encouraged him to accept in the spirit it was offered.

"I'm fine, let me drive you."

They often had this argument, and Edward always resisted. On this occasion, they decided to compromise. Edward would ride his bike into the village, and then Bella would come down to the restaurant for a late supper, after which they could put the bike in the back of the Range Rover and drive home together.

Bella nodded and smiled. Their life together was full of compromises, but that was the point. They worked things out together and came up with solutions which suited them both—something which had seldom, if ever, happened when she was with Jake.

When they had both showered, and Edward had left to go back to the restaurant, Bella went into her studio to do some work on the large painting which would be the centrepiece of the upcoming exhibition. She was donating some of her older pieces to be sold in Alice's charity auction, and Angela had also agreed that they could sell one of the 'World of Ashkran' illustrations. However, this one was special, and would not be for sale.

She smiled when she walked into the room, uplifted, as always, by the bright and airy space. She had, of course, helped to get it started, but it was Edward who had completed the work.

She recalled her return after her first overnight trip last month. Edward had practically manhandled her into the bedroom, where, just like earlier, he had shown her just how much he'd missed her. In the aftermath, he was keen to hear how her trip had gone—specifically, whether Jake had made an appearance. She had been happy to put his mind at rest, insisting to him that she was sure her ex had moved on by now and probably didn't even spare her a thought anymore.

She suspected that Edward was less convinced of Jake's disinterest, but instead of pressing her, he had suddenly leapt out of bed, grinning down at her as he held his hand out.

"I've got a surprise for you," he told her, leading the way down the hall to her studio. Both still naked, he had insisted that she cover her eyes before opening the door. When she uncovered them, she had gasped at what she saw. She had no idea how he had finished it in the time—unless he had foregone sleep altogether—but he had. The fresh smell of paint and varnish assaulted her senses, but she didn't care—the walls, ceiling and floor were all done, and the room was ready for the fixtures and fittings.

Now, it was kitted out with worktops and a new, full-sized and adjustable drawing board, much better than the one she'd left at Jake's. The walls were painted in apple white, and, positioned in the centre on a large black and white rug, was a white-topped oval table with a green trim. It was here that she liked to write, using her laptop. Edward had put up shelves and fitted two lighting tracks, and at one end was a couch which converted to a double-bed, should they need it. Bella loved the room and was convinced it fed her creative spirit.

As ever, the time passed quickly as she worked, and it was only the rumbling of her stomach which reminded her that she needed to get something to eat. Finishing what she was doing, she cleaned up and dressed in smart black trousers and a silky black blouse—CQ, as it was now known to the locals, was definitely not a place for jeans and t shirts.

As soon as she walked in the door, Esme spotted her.

"Bella, how lovely to see you," she said, coming over and giving her a hug. She had quickly become a good friend and Bella couldn't help but love her for her warmth and good humour, as well as the way she seemed to have taken Edward, in particular, under her wing. Childless themselves, she and Carlisle really seemed to have taken him to their hearts, providing him with so much more than just employment and training. There was no doubt in Bella's mind that they both doted on him, and she suspected that Edward was the recipient of a much higher level of instruction and attention than the other trainees.

Esme led her towards the back of the restaurant, where she kept a private table for herself and the wait-staff to use, which could be quickly converted to a main dining table when they were busy or had a last-minute VIP booking. Being quite late on a week night, the restaurant was still moderately busy but not full, so they were able to sit down and chat for a few minutes.

"Thank goodness you're home, Bella—Edward had ants in his pants all morning, and Carl was glad to let him go when he asked if he could leave for a couple of hours. Thank God he got laid, otherwise he would have been good for nothing tonight!"

Bella gasped and slapped Esme lightly on the arm. "Oh my God, Ez, shut up!"

"Well, you can't deny it. He's been like a dog with two dicks ever since he got back."

Bella giggled and shook her head. "Jeez, Esme, you're as bad as Alice."

"Oh, not fair—that woman is a positive minx. Do you know what—oh bugger, I better go. I'll get someone to come and take your order. I'll be back in a bit. Oh, you should try the halibut—it's Edward's new recipe, and it's to die for."

She left and moments later Lauren, one of the waitresses, approached her.

"Hi, Bella. What can I get you?" she asked, with a welcoming smile.

Bella ordered the halibut and a glass of elderflower cordial, before retrieving her iPad from her bag to check her emails.

Esme popped back intermittently, finally sitting down with the till receipts to start cashing up. As Bella finished her meal, Carlisle emerged from the kitchen, smiling widely when he saw Bella. He came round the table to kiss her cheek, and then sat down opposite her.

Grinning broadly, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What?" she asked, nonplussed by his silent regard.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, nothing. I'm just glad you're back… and Edward is obviously _very_ happy you're back."

Bella blushed and tried to look cross. "Bloody hell, Carlisle, you and Esme are like two sides of the same sodding record."

He threw his head back and laughed with delight. Bella couldn't be angry with him, he was just such a nice bloke. Soft-spoken and seemingly easy-going on the outside, Bella knew him to be a tough and single-minded man with bags of ambition. He expected a lot of his staff, but he was fair and decent, and had gained huge respect in the village in a very short space of time. The restaurant had provided much needed work for a dozen young people, which, in a village the size of Chipping Mallard, was a substantial quota. In addition, he determinedly sourced as much of his produce as possible from local farms and independent retailers. The icing on the cake was that, as a result of CQ's popularity and swiftly rising reputation, the village was already experiencing a major influx of people from all over the south of England. This was despite the time of year and the weather, and many of the visitors also spent their money in the hotels, shops and other amenities of the town and surrounding area. There were few who would hear a bad word against him, and everyone loved Esme.

"So, what did you think of the halibut?" he asked.

"Oh, God, it was fantastic. The sauce was amazing. Esme said it was Edward's recipe." Bella was eager to hear what Carlisle thought about her boyfriend's skills.

"Yeah, calvados and Serrano ham butter cream—it ought to overpower the fish, but it really works. It's been hugely popular tonight, and it was only because your boy insisted on setting aside a portion for you that there was any left."

Bella grinned, feeling inordinately proud. "So, he's doing okay, then?"

Carlisle chuckled. "You ask me that every time I see you, Bella. Yes, he's doing really well."

He sobered suddenly and leaned forward to prop his arms on the table.

"He's a natural, Bella, and I doubt I'll be able to keep him for long. He has an intuitive understanding of food and what works. He's not afraid to experiment, and he's full of ideas. He'll go a long way, mark my words."

Bella nodded, her smile remaining in place, but deep down, she couldn't suppress a moment of slithering, dark fear. If Edward did as well as Carlisle expected him to, he could well decide to move on some time in the not-too-distant future. She felt cold for a moment, as if someone had just opened a door behind her, and it seemed her heart clenched at the thought of losing him.

Neither of them had yet used the 'L' word, but she knew, deep down, that she had fallen in love with Edward. Equally, she didn't doubt he cared for her very much—but was it enough? Was he in love with her? If he did move on, would he want her to go with him, and, if so, would she want to? The moment the thought entered her head, she knew that she would. But what if he didn't want her? He was so young, with a world of possibilities before him.

She would be devastated if he left her behind, she knew that now. But, at the same time, she could never stand in his way.

_I guess it must be love_.

She shivered again.

"Hey, are you okay, Bell?"

She looked up into Carlisle's concerned face.

She forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine; I just thought I felt a draught. I expect I'm tired, it's been a long day."

"Hey, old man, I hope you're not chatting up my girlfriend."

Bella turned as Edward walked through the swing door from the kitchen, a huge smile on his face.

"I wouldn't dare—Esme would cut off my balls and sauté them for breakfast."

Edward laughed and bent down to plant a quick kiss on Bella's mouth.

Straightening up, he turned to his employer. "That's good, because if you were, I'd have to sharpen the knife for her."

They all laughed, and Bella gave herself a mental talking to.

_Make the most of it, because nothing lasts forever. He's here now, so I'll take what I can get, and if… when he leaves, I'll deal with the fallout then. _

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

National Insurance number – in the US, it would be his social security number  
_La petite mort_ – The little death


	18. Interruption

**Chapter 18 ~ Interruption**

The streets of London were teeming with Christmas shoppers as Bella's cab made its way slowly up Regent Street. Once across Oxford Circus, they made better progress into Portland Place, and Bella finally saw the imposing edifice of the BBC's Broadcasting House. The stunning art-deco building, shaped like the stern of a great ocean liner in a sea of traffic, loomed in front of them, and she could feel her heart rate pick up.

The last six days had been gruelling as she had travelled round the country, going from bookstore to radio station in what felt like every major city in Britain. The day before she had been in Manchester, but now she was back in London, and it felt like she was on the home-straight. This morning, she would be interviewed by Jenny Murray on the BBC's 'Woman's Hour' show on Radio 4, followed by a book-signing at Foyle's in Charing Cross Road. Finally, she was meeting with her editor, Eleazar Weisman, at her publishers' to go through the first draft of her new book.

She couldn't deny she was excited about the day ahead of her, but it was tempered by her longing to get home. She missed Edward more than she could ever have imagined, and a good deal of her excitement was in knowing that tomorrow morning she would be returning to Chipping Mallard and, more importantly, Edward's arms. They had, of course, talked on the phone every day—indeed, his was the first voice she heard each morning, and the last one before she fell asleep at night—but it was neither the same, nor enough.

Less than an hour later, Bella exited the BBC, climbing into a black cab that the Commissionaire had secured for her. The interview had gone really well, and she couldn't help but mentally cross it off her tasks for the day.

_One down, two more to go_.

At Foyle's, once the world's largest bookstore, with more than 30 miles of shelving, Bella was conscious that it still contained Britain's most comprehensive selection of new books. For a bibliophile like herself, it was a positive paradise, and she couldn't resist taking a moment, upon entering, to breathe in the unique scent.

Bella was due to read an excerpt from her new novel, prior to signing customers' copies of her first book, and she was gratified by the sizeable audience. She enjoyed interacting with her readers, and the three-hour session passed quickly. Several people had also bought copies of Angela Weber's second book, 'Ashkran Wars', which they were equally keen for her to sign. Bella was delighted to hear how much their children enjoyed the pictorial depictions of their favourite fantasy world, and was almost sorry to have to leave for her next appointment.

Nevertheless, by the end, the thought was there.

_Two down, one more to go._

In yet another cab, she headed south towards the river, en route to the offices of Little, Brown & Co. on Victoria Embankment.

Bella climbed out of the cab and walked into the stunning 1920s neoclassical building which housed her publishers' offices. Inside, she was handed a visitor's badge at reception, before taking the lift to the sixth floor.

"Go right in, Miss Swan, Mr Weisman is expecting you."

Bella nodded her thanks to Eleazar's secretary, opening the door and entering the large office. Behind an enormous mahogany desk across the room, stood a short, rotund man with a shiny, domed head, his face splitting into a wide, genuine smile.

"Bella, my dear girl, how wonderful to see you again. Come in, come in."

"Hello, Eli, it's good to see you too."

He came round the desk and greeted her with a warm hug, before leading her over to a comfortable looking couch and coffee table. Taking her coat, he urged her to sit while he hung it up.

Bella took the opportunity to admire the incredible view across the Thames through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She never ceased to be awed by the amazing juxtaposition of old and new—to the left of Blackfriars Bridge, three hundred years of history encapsulated by Wren's masterpiece, St Paul's Cathedral, and, to the right, the ultra-modernity of Norman Foster's twenty-first century glass and steel building, better known to Londoners as The Gherkin.

Her attention was eventually dragged away from the wonderful vista when Eli came over to join her, pouring coffee from a large pot on the table.

"Now then, my dear, how have you been? Carmen has told me all about your… difficulties with Mr Black. Are you okay?"

He took her hand between both of his and squeezed it gently, looking at her solicitously.

She smiled back at the older man, and took a deep breath. She had grown immensely fond of her editor, who had been hugely supportive and encouraging ever since she had first met him.

"I'm fine, Eli… great, in fact. Jake is in the past, and I've moved on."

He nodded, satisfied. "Good, good. Well, clearly it's been a positive step as far as your writing is concerned. The manuscript is wonderful, Bella, just wonderful. I hear you're living in the country now, and I don't know if there's something in the air or the water, but you seem to have been inspired."

Bella grinned with delight, but didn't enlighten him as to exactly what—or _who_—was currently inspiring her writing.

For the next couple of hours, they talked about her manuscript, with Bella taking assiduous notes on Eli's suggestions and comments. By the end of their time together, she had a really clear idea of what she needed to change and those elements of the story she would expand. It was always a revelation to her the way Eli could pinpoint what did and didn't work in a plot or descriptive piece and, without encroaching on her own creative processes, was able to help her see how to improve the essential storyline.

As they wrapped up their discussion, they became aware of raised voices in the outer office. Bella's eyes widened and she inhaled sharply when she recognised the angry male voice.

"Oh, my God, it's Jake!" she gasped.

"Your ex? What the hell is he doing here?"

She simply shook her head, looking around wildly for an escape.

Eli gripped her hand and cupped her cheek to make her look at him.

"Calm down, Bella, I'll handle this."

He stood, pulling her to her feet. "Get your things together and go through into the meeting room. I'll get rid of him."

He directed her towards a door on the other side of the room, waiting until she passed through and shut the door. He then walked over to his office door, opening it to find a furiously gesticulating Jacob Black looming over his clearly intimidated secretary.

"What do you want, Mr Black?" Eli asked calmly.

Jake swung around, his face flushed with anger.

"Where's Bella?" he demanded loudly.

"She's not here, and I'd appreciate it if you would lower your voice and stop acting like a Barbarian."

Jake practically snarled, but Eli appeared unfazed.

"Claire, please call security and ask them to come up here," he said to his secretary, who immediately picked up the phone and punched in a number.

"Tell Bella I want to see her, you fat fuck! I know she's here. Someone heard her on the radio this morning saying she had a meeting with you this afternoon." Jake clenched his fists and took a step towards the older man.

Eli stood his ground, simply holding his hand up in a 'halt' motion.

"I've already told you, she's not here. She left about twenty minutes ago. I suggest you leave as well, otherwise I will have to ask security to escort you from the building."

"You're lying," Jake responded, but he looked less sure of himself.

"I'm not in the habit of lying, Mr Black. Now, if you please, I'm about to pack up for the day and I would like you gone before I leave."

Jake didn't move, his nostrils flaring as he breathed hard, reminding Eli of an angry bull. As they continued to stare at one another, the outer door opened and two burly security men walked in.

"Is everything all right in here, Mr Weisman?" the older of the two asked, glancing between Eli and Jake.

"Yes, Mr Black was just leaving, Colin. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to accompany him down to the lobby and see that he gets safely out of the building."

Colin nodded and looked at Jake.

"Mr Black? Would you come with us, please?" He spoke politely, but his voice indicated that it was not so much a request as a demand.

Jake started to turn, realising he had no choice, but stopped and looked once more at Eli.

"I know she's here, you lying piece of shit, and I'll just wait for her outside. She can't hide in your office all night."

"Mr Black, let's go," Colin interrupted sharply, holding his arm out.

Throwing a last, furious look at Eli's impassive visage, Jake turned and reluctantly let the two men close around him and usher him through the door.

Shaking his head, Eli turned to his secretary.

"Are you all right, Claire? He didn't touch you, did he?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Mr Weisman, honestly. You better go and make sure Miss Swan is okay," she replied, feeling much better now that Jake was gone.

Nodding, Eli turned and went back into his office. He hurried across the room and opened the door to the adjoining conference area, where Bella was standing looking anxiously out the window.

"He's gone, my dear. Are you okay?"

Bella turned to look at him, remaining silent for a moment as she tried to process what had just happened.

"Bella?"

"I'm sorry, Eli. I had no idea he might turn up here—although I guess I should have known he'd try something after trying it on with Carmen. But I don't understand how he knew I was here."

"You have nothing to apologise for, my dear. Unfortunately, someone he knows must have heard your interview on 'Woman's Hour' this morning. Apparently, you mentioned that you were coming here today and he obviously decided to chance his arm."

Bella sighed, mortified at her slip. "I better go. I was going to stay in town to do some shopping and get the train home tomorrow, but I think I'll go back tonight."

"Perhaps that might be sensible. He doesn't know where you live, does he?"

"No, he has no idea, thank God, and I'm very careful not to give any hints in interviews. God, what a stupid thing to do, saying I was coming here, but it just never occurred to me—"

"Now, stop that. It's not your fault. However, we need to be careful, in case he's waiting outside—"

Bella's gasp of horror sent him across the room to put his arm round her and guide her to a chair.

"Don't worry about anything, my dear. I'll get Claire to call my driver. My car's in the basement car park, and we can get the lift straight down there."

Bella smiled and stood up, happy to have someone to take care of her for once. Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in the back of Eli's Mercedes, on her way to Paddington Station to catch the 19:48 train to Kemble, where her car was parked.

Once she was settled on the train, she thought about calling Edward, but a look at her watch told her he'd be busy in the kitchen at CQ, so she decided she would go straight home and wait for him there. She couldn't wait to see him, but she was too tired after her long day to go to the restaurant, so she would simply surprise him when he got home. The thought made her smile, helping to erase some of the trauma of Jake's unwelcome appearance at Little, Brown.

She knew, at some point, she would need to deal with the problem of her ex, but for now, all she wanted to think about was the weeks ahead, spent with Edward. The second draft of her book wasn't due until the end of January, and all her media and book-signing duties were done. With a publication date for her new novel set for July, when it was hoped to catch the holiday rush, she had plenty of time to relax and enjoy herself for a while.

An hour and a half later, Bella had picked up her car and was driving to Chipping Mallard. The roads at that time of night were very quiet, and the ten mile journey from the station took very little time. At almost dead on half-past nine, Bella drove through the gates of Ivy Cottage and pulled up in front of the house. She was exhausted, and wasted no time in collecting her bags from the back of the car and unlocking the front door.

Walking into the house, Bella inhaled, as if to absorb the comfort and warmth of her home both inside and out. It was the longest she'd been away since moving in and she was a little surprised at how emotional she felt about being back. A slow smile spread across her face as a myriad of scents flooded her senses. It seemed Edward had been experimenting.

Walking into the kitchen, she had to laugh. Every surface was covered with pans and dishes, and she could identify vanilla, tarragon, basil and yeast, amongst other things.

Turning her back for the moment on the chaos within, she strolled into the sitting room. It was a little better, but still, there were cookery books spread all across the coffee table, some closed, some open. Yet more books were scattered across the floor, and in between the ones on the table were several dirty mugs and plates. In addition, draped across the sofa and one of the armchairs were a number of discarded sweaters and t-shirts.

Shaking her head, Bella exited the room, collected her bags from the hall and went upstairs. She wasn't surprised to find the bed unmade, and a couple of damp towels tossed haphazardly over the end of the bed. The floor was dotted with dirty socks and underwear, and in the bathroom she found more towels flung over the side of the bath.

She sighed, returning to the bedroom. Looking at her watch she saw it was nearly ten o'clock and she was bone-tired. A major clear-up would have to wait until the morning. Edward would be home in about an hour, so for now she simply gathered up the dirty towels and clothes, depositing them in the laundry hamper. She quickly straightened the bed and unpacked her bags, before changing into her pyjamas and slipping on her warm, full length robe.

Downstairs, she fashioned bookmarks out of Post-it notes, which she placed in the open cookery books, piling them all up on one side of the coffee table. She then collected the dirty crockery and carried everything into the kitchen, where she managed to juggle some space on the table. She didn't have the energy to deal with the mess, so decided to just make a cup of tea and look for something to eat in the fridge.

**~o0o~  
**

Edward pedalled his bicycle down the lane, freewheeling in through the gates of the cottage. He was achingly tired, and although it had been a good night in the restaurant, all he could think about was taking a shower and settling into bed before calling Bella. He was so thankful for his job, which he loved more than he ever could have imagined, and without it, he was sure he would have gone crazy with loneliness while Bella was away. The days kept him busy, but at night, when he was alone, it was all he could do not to think about getting on a train to wherever she was, just to see her beautiful face. So preoccupied was he with thoughts of his amazing girlfriend, that he almost rode his bike straight into the back of the Land Rover, and he had to brake hard to save himself from serious injury.

He stared at the car, his exhausted mind struggling to understand what it was doing there. His heart picked up and his tiredness suddenly dropped away when he realised what it meant.

Climbing off, he dropped the bike on the ground and ran to the door, nearly breaking the key in his haste to get inside.

"Bella?" he called, hurrying through to the sitting room. Opening the door, he stopped and stared at the sight before him.

Bella was curled up on the sofa, sound asleep, a half-eaten sandwich and almost-full mug of tea on the table beside her. Her hair had fallen over her face, and he was filled with an overwhelming urge to walk over and sweep it away, and kiss every centimetre of her lovely face. He took a step into the room and then stopped, his eyes suddenly registering the books on the coffee table and the small pile of clothes, neatly folded on one of the armchairs. He groaned, pushing one hand into his hair and gripping it tightly.

"Fuck," he hissed, his mind going to the mess he'd left in the kitchen. He'd fully intended to clean up in the morning, before Bella's expected arrival at about eleven.

He crossed to where she lay, kneeling on the floor beside her. She looked so tired—it must have upset her so much to come home to find the house in such a terrible state. A vivid image of the bedroom popped into his head and he groaned again.

_Fuck, she must think I've totally taken the piss while she was away._

Bella's eyelids fluttered and she made a quiet snuffling noise. Edward looked down, watching as she slowly emerged from sleep, revealing her beautiful brown eyes. He smiled sheepishly when her eyes finally focussed fully on him.

"Bella, baby, what are you doing here? I didn't think you were coming back until tomorrow. I'm so sorry about the mess… I promise I was going to clean up before you got back. Why didn't you call? Oh, God, Bella, you must think I'm such a useless fucker… I'm so sor—"

She stopped his agonised apology by reaching up and pressing her forefinger to his lips.

"I don't care about any of that, just kiss me, you silly man," she said, dropping her hand.

He grinned widely, dipping his head and crushing his mouth to hers. Their lips moved against each other, opening to let their tongues make contact. Edward rolled her onto her back, burying his hands in her long, dark hair, revelling in its softness. As the kiss became more heated, he managed to kick off his shoes and quickly climbed up on top of her. Immediately, Bella parted her legs, allowing him to settle between them, and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

Eventually, lack of air forced an end to the kiss and, despite the thick length of Edward's erection pressed against Bella's stomach, they both knew they were too tired to take it further. Resting his weight on his forearms, Edward stroked his thumbs across Bella's cheeks, gazing down in rapt wonder.

"God, I missed you," he whispered.

"Missed you too… so, so much," she responded, reaching up and brushing his hair back where it had flopped over his forehead.

In that moment, Edward longed to tell Bella that he loved her. He'd known it for a while, but their enforced separation had really brought it home to him just how much he cared for her. Only his fear that he might spoil things between them stopped him from just blurting it out.

If he could have read Bella's mind, he wouldn't have hesitated to tell her.

Instead, he kissed her again, softly, chastely, before reluctantly climbing off her and standing up. He held his hand out for her to take and pulled her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his forehead against hers.

"I really am sorry about the mess, Bella. I promise I'll clean up in the morning, but can we just go to bed now?"

"Hey, I told you, I don't care. We can do it together in the morning. But right now, bed sounds great. Come on, let's go up."

He drew back and smiled at her, and for the first time, Bella noticed the dark shadows under his eyes. She reached up and lightly brushed her thumbs over the purple bruises, frowning up at him.

"Oh, Edward, you look so tired. Haven't you been sleeping?"

They both knew that she was talking about his nightmares.

He brought his hands up to encircle her wrists and pull them down between them.

"Shhh, I'm fine. I've just been busy, that's all. But you're home now and everything's good."

He released her and stepped back, but reached down to take her hand, entwining his fingers with hers and leading her out of the room.

Upstairs, he took a quick shower, conscious of the sweat and kitchen smells clinging to his skin. Less than ten minutes later, dressed only in his boxer-briefs, he turned off the light and climbed into bed behind Bella. He pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into her hair and inhaling deeply. He revelled in her scent, sweeping her silky tresses away from her neck and trailing soft kisses down the long column of her neck.

Bella mumbled softly, but he could tell she was almost asleep. Truth be known, much as he wanted her—_needed_ to reconnect with her in the most fundamental way—he, too, could feel his exhaustion roll over him. He contented himself with having her back in his arms, where she belonged, and vowed he would make it up to her in the morning.

And with that delicious thought in mind, he slipped quickly into a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep—for the first time in a week.

**~o0o~  
**

Edward was as good as his word the next day, both in bed and in the house. He had woken early, still wrapped around Bella, and it hadn't taken him long to rouse her. After kissing her neck and shoulders, cupping her breasts and thumbing her nipples, she had moved her leg back over his, allowing him to slide effortless inside of her from behind. With slow, deliberate thrusts, matched by his fingers massaging her clit, he had brought her to a blissful peak, which, in turn, had propelled him to his own, deeply satisfying orgasm.

God, how he had missed her.

Pulling out of her, he rolled her onto her back and captured her lips with his. Minute after minute they kissed, unable, it seemed, to stop, as they reconnected in the most fundamental way.

And then Edward was between her legs, which Bella immediately wrapped around him, and he once more pushed inside her wet heat.

**~o0o~**

Bella had fallen asleep again after their second round of love-making, and, much as he wanted to stay and just hold her, he forced himself from her side and set about cleaning up the mess he'd made whilst she had been away.

By the time she had re-awoken, showered and gone downstairs, the kitchen was cleared, the dishwasher was on, and both the washing machine and dryer were in full use.

Standing with his back to her at the stove, Edward was stirring scrambled eggs in a pan while bread toasted. She took a moment to take in the sight of his broad shoulders, long back tapering to a narrow waist, slim hips and endless legs. In the weeks since she'd picked him up on the side of that cold, lonely road, he had filled out. His work and daily cycle ride to and from the restaurant served to keep him fit, and, even after just a week away from him, she had noticed an appreciable difference in his muscle tone as he'd moved inside her that morning.

He was no longer a skinny, undernourished kid. He was a strong, well-built man. The thought made her shiver with pleasure.

"Are you ogling my arse?"

Bella jumped at the sound of Edward's voice, unable to control the blush which flooded her face as he turned around. He smirked knowingly at her, even as she pouted and shook her head.

"So, what if I was? It's a mighty fine sight!" she huffed, pushing away from the doorframe and walking over to him.

He kissed her quickly on the lips as she turned her head up to him, and then turned back to give the eggs a final stir. Bella retrieved the toast for Edward to butter, while she made the tea and carried it over to the table.

They smiled at one another as they ate their breakfast.

"What time do you have to go to work?" Bella asked, biting into a piece of toast.

"I don't. I've worked seven days straight and Carlisle gave me the whole day off."

Bella's eyes widened and then she was grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat.

"Really? That's brilliant," she said, reaching over to squeeze his hand where it lay on the table. But then her smile faded.

"You worked seven days straight? Oh, Edward, no wonder you're so tired. Surely Carlisle could have spared you for one day?"

He shook his head, pulling his hand away and returning to his breakfast.

"Nah, it was okay. I didn't want to be here on my own without you…" He trailed off, not meeting her eye as he shovelled eggs into his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was bring them both down by talking about his wretched nightmares.

"Anyway, forget that, it's not important. What do you want to do today… I know what I'd like to do!"

He waggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh.

"Nuh-uh, you'll wear me out. Let's go for a drive, get some lunch at a nice pub somewhere. It's such a beautiful day, even if it's cold, and it would be nice to get out in the fresh air after being cooped up in hotel rooms, radio stations and musty bookstores for a week. What do you think?"

Edward readily agreed, happy at the thought of just spending time with Bella, regardless of what they did.

Half an hour later, bundled up in warm clothes, they left the house and got into the car. They had decided to just follow the road north out of the village and let it take them where it may.

They chatted happily on the drive—about the book tour, the 'Woman's Hour' interview and all the people Bella had met during her time away; about the restaurant, the various new recipes Edward was working on, and how pleased Carlisle seemed to be with his progress.

There was no mention of Edward's nightmares, nor did Bella tell him about Jake's unwelcome visit to her publishers' offices. She refused to spoil a lovely day by talking about something which she hoped would just go away.

But hope isn't always enough.


	19. Triumph

**C****hapter 19 ~ Triumph**

The day Bella and Edward spent together after her book tour was blissful, and, if questioned, neither would have been able to name a time when they had ever been happier.

It proved to be the calm before the storm.

Bella had finally bitten the bullet and told Edward about Jake's unfortunate appearance at her publishers' office whilst she was in London, and, although she had downplayed it as much as possible, it had inevitably thrown him into a furious spin. He cursed prolifically, before demanding that she seek legal advice about taking out a restraining order. Even when she pointed out that it would be almost impossible, in view of the fact that she had no proof that he had ever harmed her, he had urged her to speak to the police. He had then been voluble in his denunciation of the legal system, when they had confirmed Bella's contention that, without evidence of a clear and present danger, there was little that could be done.

"So, what? We have to wait 'til that fucker beats the shit out of you before they'll do anything? That's fucked up, Bella."

He had wrung his hands, despite her insistence that Jake had no idea where she lived, and was only slightly mollified when she promised to be extra-vigilant, to make sure she kept to busy, brightly lit areas when out, and that she locked all the doors when she was home alone.

It would have to suffice, because, with only a week to go before Alice's exhibition, and barely a fortnight until Christmas, they were both rushed off their feet—which at least helped to distract them both from thoughts of Jake. Bella spent most of her time in her studio, finishing off the paintings and illustrations she'd been working on, arranging the mounts, and talking to Alice.

Meanwhile, the restaurant was fully booked right up until lunchtime on Christmas Eve, after which it would be closed for Christmas Day and Boxing Day*, re-opening on the twenty-seventh. Thankfully, Edward had also managed to get that day off, so would have three clear days to relax and enjoy Christmas, something he couldn't ever remember doing in the past. He would, however, need to sort out some time off before then to do his Christmas shopping. He had seen what he wanted to buy for Bella a couple of weeks earlier in the antique shop next door to CQ, and had been waiting for his Christmas pay-packet to get it. Thankfully, the shop's owner had accepted a small deposit to secure the purchase and remove it from display.

In addition, it seemed he would need to buy extra gifts, as Bella's aunt and uncle were joining them for two days. He knew he had no right to feel irritated by Bella's announcement that Peter and Charlotte would be arriving on Christmas morning and staying overnight, but he couldn't help resenting the intrusion. He had been so looking forward to the two of them having time together, without the pressures of work, even if it was just for three days, and now that was being reduced to little more than a day.

He sighed as he prepped for lunch—they had a Christmas office party booked today for twelve, as well as the normal lunchtime rush, so he had a busy day ahead of him. He told himself he needed to get over it, and he had to admit that a part of him was delighted that Bella was inviting her family to share the holiday with the two of them as a couple.

"No time for sighing or daydreaming, Edward… have you finished prepping the duck?"

Edward looked up at the sound of Carlisle's voice.

"Yes, Chef, all done. I'm gonna start on the halibut now."

Carlisle nodded and moved on. He could be harsh and demanding in the kitchen, but Edward understood that—he had been in enough commercial kitchens in his time—albeit briefly—to know that a lot of chefs could be complete arseholes. He had long ago realised that the best chefs maintained order by being firm but fair, treating their staff with respect and consideration, and always working as hard, if not harder, than those around them. Fortunately, Carlisle fell very much into the latter category, and, although one or two of the staff railed against kitchen discipline, Edward had never had a problem with his boss or his methods. On the contrary, he had learned so much in such a short time, that he was sure he would never be able to adequately repay Carlisle, or Esme, for this incredible opportunity. All he could do was work as hard as possible to make 'Cullenary Quisine' a success.

**~o0o~**

In this way, the days quickly passed. Bella spent evenings in her studio, and then would drive into the village to deliver her latest completed piece to the bookshop. Alice was supremely organised, spending what seemed like hours on the phone, and every time Bella dropped off another painting or drawing, she couldn't help but be infected by Alice's enthusiasm and passion.

Indeed, it would be hard not to be affected by Alice's zeal, as the whole village seemed to be excited about the upcoming exhibition, which, it seemed, was great news for the whole community. Advertisements had gone in the regional newspapers, as well as online, and all the local hotels were fully booked. CQ was providing the catering, and a well-respected, Bristol-based jazz-fusion band would be performing during the evening. The ticket-only event was completely sold out, and Alice had managed to procure some incredible items for the charity-auction from local businesses to supplement the artwork being donated by Bella and Angela.

Quite frankly, Bella was astonished at the interest the little local exhibition had garnered, and was somewhat concerned that people would find it disappointing. She said as much to Alice a couple of days beforehand, and was immediately chastised in no uncertain terms. They were talking about final details over a cup of coffee, when Bella mentioned her worries.

"Bella Swan, what is it with you and all this ridiculous modesty? 'World of Ashkran' is the most popular series of children's books since 'Harry Potter', and your illustrations are a big part of that success. I can't tell you how many people I've had asking to buy your artwork—sight unseen—before the night. People want to meet you and Angela, and they want to see what else you can do. Add to that a charity auction, fantastic food from a restaurant which has already garnered incredible reviews, and a top-notch band—quite honestly, sweet-cheeks, I'm surprised we haven't had _more_ interest.

"Now, enough of all that. What about the centrepiece? Is it finished?"

Bella smiled, reaching over to squeeze her friend's arm.

"Yes, it's done—I just wanted to make sure it was completely dry before I brought it over. In fact, I was wondering if Jasper could give me a hand with it later. Edward's going to be busy, and I thought it might be a good idea to deliver it in good time so you can organise getting it mounted. It's too big for me to manage on my own."

"Of course he can help. I'll give him a call and see if he can get away from work a little earlier today. Will it fit in your car?"

"Yeah, no problem—it's in three pieces. That would be great, Ally. I better get going. Tell Jasper to come round whenever he's ready, and I'll see you later."

**~o0o~  
**

Bella stood in front of her full-length mirror, regarding her reflection critically. The form fitting, sapphire blue dress was sleeveless, with a deeply plunging v-neck and back, trimmed in black. It ended mid-thigh and, teamed with black, high-heeled strappy shoes, it made her legs look endless. She had coiled her long, dark hair into a low chignon at the back of her neck, applying smoky eye-shadow, outlining her eyes with kohl and black mascara to make them look huge. Her cheekbones were highlighted with a light application of blusher, and her full lips were coated in a pale plum shade, which gave them the appearance of ripe, succulent fruit.

She turned away from her inspection, deciding she was as good as she was going to get. She gathered up the fake fur, three-quarter length swing coat she'd bought on her recent trip, and picked up her small black clutch bag, before leaving the room and heading downstairs. Edward was working, but Carlisle had said he could leave at six o'clock. Lauren and Jessica, two of the waitresses who rented the flat above the restaurant, had said he could shower and change there, so he would be meeting Bella at the bookshop.

She was so happy that he would be there with her, as she was irrationally nervous about the evening. It was foolish, she knew, having given readings of her book to an audience and gone on radio to talk about her work. She knew children liked her 'Ashkran' illustrations, but she had never openly displayed her artwork before. The drawings and paintings she had produced were quite personal to her, and she couldn't help worrying about what people would think. The centrepiece, in particular, had come from a place in her heart, and she found herself second-guessing her decision to exhibit it.

At least it wasn't included in the selection that was being offered up for auction, so she wouldn't be losing it. She just wasn't sure how she felt about others—strangers—looking at it… judging it… analysing it.

A knock on the door forced her to stop thinking about it, and she walked into the hall to greet her visitor.

"Your carriage awaits you, Miss Swan," announced a grinning Jasper, when she opened the door.

"Hi, Jasper, I'm ready, so let's go," she responded with an answering smile. Alice had insisted that her husband return after delivering the painting to give Bella a lift into the village so that she could enjoy a drink—her precise words were that Bella 'needed to chill and not flap about like a startled goose all night'.

As she fumbled with her seatbelt, Jasper squeezed her arm gently. "Don't be nervous, Bell, it's going to be a great night."

She gave him a tight smile and nodded.

"I know, I know, that's what Alice keeps saying. She keeps doing that thing… you know, tapping her nose and saying—"

"She knows these things!" Jasper laughed, and Bella had to join in, shaking her head with a smirk.

He started the engine and reversed out of the drive, chuckling softly to himself. She was glad that she'd agreed to let him drive—there was something very calming about his presence, and she felt herself starting to relax a little as they swept across the hump-backed bridge towards the village.

**~o0o~  
**

Edward hurried along the High Street. He didn't have a watch, but he knew he was late, and was cursing himself. He'd made the mistake of exiting through the restaurant so he could say goodbye to Carlisle and thank him for letting him leave early. As he'd left the kitchen, Esme had forestalled him, gushing over how handsome he looked in his suit, and then insisting he meet some people who had complimented his fish dish—a middle-aged couple and their two teenage daughters. He didn't want to be rude, but the two girls were eyeing him up like he was the dessert trolley, and kept asking him questions and batting their eyelashes at him. He'd never seen so much hair-flicking in his entire life, but he knew he had no choice but to spend a little time talking to them.

When he'd finally managed to extricate himself as politely as possible, he was then stopped by Jessica, who cooed endlessly over how well he 'scrubbed up'. He knew she had a crush on him, and he was constantly having to avoid being caught alone with her. She had invited him to the pub on more than one occasion, hinting that he should spend time with people his 'own age', making it clear she thought Bella was too old for him. As if he gave a toss what she thought. She had wrapped her hands around his arm and was clinging to him like a limpet, and eventually he had to tell her bluntly that he was on his way to Bella's exhibition.

Finally, he had escaped, and now he was pushing open the door of 'Wonderland'—the name always made him smile, it was so… Alice.

Inside, the warmth hit him after the chill of the late December night. Alice had paid her staff to act as greeters, directing guests to the café area, and they smiled at him as he entered, waving him through.

He strode quickly past the bookshelves, but stopped as he reached the arched opening into the temporary exhibition space. Alice had paid a team of local men to come in and take out all the books and shelves from the café, along with most of the tables and chairs, and the fireside sofas. Where she'd put everything, he couldn't imagine, but now the space was open and seemed much larger than he'd remembered. But what had pulled him up short was the startling array of artwork mounted all around the walls.

Edward seldom went into Bella's studio—it was her personal space, and he didn't feel comfortable invading it. He had therefore seen none of her work until this moment. What he now saw was a gorgeous feast for the eyes—colourfully exotic fantasy scenes dominated one whole wall, making him feel like he was entering another world. He realised these were from the books she illustrated, and now understood why they were such a massive hit with children. They were exquisite.

His eyes panned across the wall towards the back of the area, and suddenly the artwork he'd just been admiring paled into insignificance. Had he thought they were exquisite? No, that word needed to be reserved for the woman his eyes had inevitably been drawn to.

Bella stood, in profile, talking to a tall, slender woman with shoulder-length black hair. She spoke animatedly, her hands gesticulating in front of her. He watched with rapt attention when the woman said something that made Bella throw her head back and laugh with delight. His heart seemed to swell inside his chest as he watched her. There were a lot of women in the room, many of them very beautiful, but Bella stood out, like a single stunning rose amongst a garden of lupins and geraniums.

As if the heat of his gaze was beginning to warm her skin, he saw Bella pause and stiffen, and then she was turning, finding him with her eyes. The smile that broke across her face seemed to light up the room, like the sun emerging from behind the moon at the end of an eclipse. Edward was dazzled, Bella's image burning itself onto his retinas, in much the same way as staring at an eclipse.

So blinded was he by her radiant luminosity, that he failed to note her own reaction to his presence. Her smile faded, mouth falling open and eyes widening, as she took him in. If Bella had previously considered Edward to be handsome, the man before her needed a whole new set of adjectives to describe him, because she surely couldn't come up with any that adequately covered it.

Edward in jeans and a t-shirt was hot… Edward in a suit was something else entirely. She could feel her breathing become shallow as she tried, and failed, to fill her lungs. He literally took her breath away.

Who knew how long the two of them might have remained frozen in place, utterly captivated by one another, had Alice not intervened. She had been observing their behaviour with some amusement, but now decided that enough was enough. Swiping two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, she made her way over to Edward, breaking the spell as she proffered a drink.

"You made it! Here, get your laughing gear round that."

Edward dragged his eyes from Bella and smiled down at the diminutive woman beside him, accepting the tall flute of sparkling wine.

"Thanks, Alice. It all looks amazing, you've done a fantastic job." He looked around in wonder, before his eyes once again settled on the beautiful brunette across the room, who was now walking towards him.

"It is pretty fantastic, isn't it—Bella's artwork is incredible."

Alice turned and smiled as her friend approached. Seeing that she was without a drink, she handed her untouched champagne to Bella, squeezing her shoulder and kissing her on the cheek.

"Congratulations, hun, it's a triumph. Enjoy."

With that, she walked away, leaving the couple on their own.

Bella looked up at Edward. "You're here."

"Yeah, I'm sorry I'm late—"

Bella cut him off by cupping his cheek and reaching up to kiss him softly on the mouth.

"It doesn't matter, you're here now, that's all I care about. I was afraid you wouldn't be able to get away."

Edward took Bella's glass from her hand, setting both their drinks down on a nearby table. He then wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world, you should know that," he told her, before dipping his head to capture her mouth with his.

The kiss was probably too long and too inappropriate, given their location, but neither one of them cared at that moment. The world disappeared, and for a short while, it was just the two of them.

But the world quickly intruded, as a voice behind Edward suddenly burst their bubble.

"Bella Swan, for fuck's sake, stop eating the face off that poor man and give me a hug!"

The couple broke apart and Bella gazed over Edward's shoulder, her eyes going wide.

"Rose? Oh my God, Rose!"

She extricated herself from Edward's embrace and flung herself at the person who had spoken.

Edward turned to see Bella throw her arms around a tall, striking blonde, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Rose, I can't believe you're here."

The two women hugged each other tightly, as Edward looked on with a smile.

Pulling back, Bella held onto Rose's hands, looking her up and down and shaking her head.

"How… what… oh my God, how did you know where to find me?"

Rose chuckled, squeezing Bella's hands. "I got an email from someone called Alice Whitlock, inviting me."

"What? But how did she know…?" She turned to try and find Alice in the crowd, but then Edward came up and slipped his arm round her shoulder.

"Don't freak out at me, but I found Rose's email address on your computer and gave it to Alice. You've been talking about trying to meet up, so I thought it would be worth asking her to come to you."

Bella peered up at him, her eyes a little glassy. "Oh, Edward…" She let go of her friend and threw her arms around his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered against his neck, as he hugged her back.

"Well, Swan, it looks like you snagged yourself a good one at last—and he's a bit of all right," Rose said, as they pulled apart.

Dragging her eyes back to Rose, Bella grinned. "Yeah, he is, isn't he? Rose, this is my boyfriend, Edward."

Rose stuck her hand out for Edward to take, giving it a quick shake. "Good to meet you, Edward… and thanks for organising this."

"You're welcome, Rose. It's really nice to meet you too—Bella's always talked so highly of you."

"Ha, well, she's one of the few. I generally tend to rub people up the wrong way. But talking of the few…" She glanced over her shoulder, and they became aware, for the first time, of the man-mountain standing behind her. "This is my significant other, Emmett."

The man was easily six foot four, with a physique to match. He would be seriously intimidating, but for his laughing blue eyes and the dimples which bookended his wide grin as he moved to wrap a muscle-bound arm around Rose's shoulders. He offered his right hand to Bella, completely enveloping her smaller one.

"Great to meet you, Bella, I've heard a lot about you from this one."

"Well, it's really nice to meet you too, Emmett—and you look like that rarity in life, a man who can handle Rose Hale."

Emmett guffawed loudly at that. "I think I'm gonna like you, Bella."

He let go of her, and held his hand out to Edward.

With introductions complete, Bella led the way into the gallery space, smiling with delight as Rose gasped upon first sighting the artwork adorning the walls.

"Fuck me, Bell, who knew you were such a talented little trollop?" she said, not quite able to hide the hint of awe in her voice. "And I, uh, read your book… it was pretty good."

Bella stared at her friend, who refused to meet her eye, a tinge of colour in her cheeks.

"Rosalie Hale, are you telling me you read chick-lit? You? Miss Iron Knickers?" Bella couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her.

Rose simply shrugged. "Only because it was written by someone I know—and I had nothing else to read at the time."

Bella laughed aloud now, knocking her shoulder against Rose's arm. "Fair enough."

She turned away to find Edward, who was standing behind her, gazing in wonder at the far wall. She looked back at the focus of his attention.

Over the fireplace, in pride of place, the entire chimney breast was taken up by a triptych of paintings—two smaller canvases on either side of a larger one. All three depicted similar monochromatic scenes—a long, empty road blanketed in snow. Each image, however, was subtly different. On the left, a lone man trudged through a snow storm; on the right, a woman travelled an equally bleak and empty path. Tempering the inherent loneliness of these two images, however, was the central canvas.

As if the artist had drawn back to view the scene from a wider angle, the larger picture now showed the two people walking towards one another. So skilful was the brushwork, and the use of light and shade, one might almost imagine that the snow swirled across the landscape, and, more astonishingly, that the couple drew closer together the longer one gazed at the scene.

"Jesus, Bella, this is… fucking amazing."

She glanced around as Edward moved to her side. She watched his face as he continued to stare in wonder at the scene before them. At last, conscious of her eyes on him, he turned his head to look at her.

"Is that… is it supposed to be… _us_?" He whispered the last word, his beautiful, expressive green eyes full of emotion.

She merely smiled and reached for his hand, linking their fingers.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

He looked again at the paintings and then back to her, his eyes glassy. He lifted his other hand and cupped her face, rubbing his thumb gently over her cheek.

"It's… God, yes, it's incredible… _you're_ incredible."

He closed the distance between them, resting his forehead against hers. He was so filled with love in that moment that it almost made his legs buckle beneath him. How he managed to stop the words pouring forth he would never know, but he knew that one day—very soon—he would tell her.

But not here. No, when he told her, they wouldn't be in a public place, surrounded by people. Because when he said the words—whether or not she said them back—he would need to _show_ her exactly how much.

Before he could kiss her, he became aware of people closing in around them, speaking to Bella, complimenting her and asking questions about her artwork. He let go of her, causing her to look at him quizzically, but he just smiled and stepped back, wanting her to bask in the admiration and attention of those who had come to pay homage. He didn't mind—he knew that he would have her all to himself later, and she deserved to enjoy this.

Leaving her side, he moved closer to the paintings over the fire. There was a small, white, printed card underneath, as there was for all the pieces. Leaning in, he read the inscription: WHERE ROADS CONVERGE. Underneath the title, in smaller print, were the words: 'Not For Sale'.

He looked back up at the painting—from this closer angle, it almost felt like he was in the middle of the snow storm, and he shivered in remembrance of that cruel night. He had been at his lowest ebb, and he had no doubt that, if not for Bella, he may well have died on that roadside. But from the depths of despair, where all hope had seemed extinguished, his guardian angel had brought him back to life. He'd had nothing—no family, no friends, no home and no future.

But now he had _everything_. He had a home, a job he loved, money in his pocket and good friends. Over and above all these things, though, he had Bella—and _she_ was everything.

He didn't dare question how he got so lucky, for fear of jinxing it. He turned away from the paintings and looked for her. She was surrounded by people, nodding and talking, but her eyes constantly sought his, and each time they found him, she smiled. And each time she smiled, he felt it—in his heart, in his stomach, in his very bones—the connection, like a strong, invisible thread, tying him to her.

He drifted away, wanting to study the other paintings and drawings, filled anew with wonder and admiration at her talent.

After a while, he found Carlisle and Esme, who had managed to get away early, along with Alice and Jasper. He revelled in the ease of the friendships he'd formed with these people, never losing touch with where Bella was, but enjoying the company of those around him. He expressed his gratitude to Jasper, who had found him a beer to replace the champagne, and tried some of the food he'd earlier helped Carlisle to prepare.

A little later, Alice called the assembled guests to order so that the auction could start, and once again found himself beside Bella, his heart swelling with pride as the pieces she had donated were sold for huge sums of money.

When Bella left him to use the bathroom, he found himself standing next to Carmen, Bella's agent, whom he'd briefly met earlier. He felt her hand on his arm, and looked around at her.

"You're good for her, Edward. I've never seen her so happy, nor so creative. I don't know what you're doing… well, I can take a pretty good guess, but whatever it is, I hope you keep doing it, and that you're going to stick around."

Edward frowned at her. "It's nothing to do with me, Carmen. Bella is incredibly talented, and I can't take credit for any of this. But I'm not going anywhere unless she tells me to go."

"Oh, I don't think there's any danger of that happening. And don't sell yourself short. Apart from the fact that, from what I've heard, you're pretty talented yourself, I can assure you that from the moment she met you, she's been writing better than ever. And you only have to look at the paintings over the fireplace to know that she's found her muse."

He gave her a rueful smile, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment, his attention was drawn to raised voices and a loud thud coming from the bookshop. Along with everyone standing on that side of the café, he turned towards the noise, his brow wrinkling in confusion. As he did, a tall, dark-haired man burst through the arch, shaking off the restraining hand of one of the greeters.

"Sir, this is a ticket-only event, you can't—"

"Go fuck yourself, dickhead, I'm Bella Swan's boyfriend."

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

Boxing Day – The day after Christmas, a public holiday in the UK


	20. Confrontation

**Chapter 20 ~ Confrontation**

Bella made her way back from the bathroom, arm-in-arm with Rose as they chatted and laughed. Emerging from the passage on the far side of the café counter, they were at first oblivious to the events which were unfolding across the room.

"_BELLA!_"

Her head snapped around, wide eyes full of dread and fear.

"Jake?" she breathed.

Everything seemed to slow down. She watched as Edward stepped in front of her ex-boyfriend, placing a hand on the bigger man's shoulder. Rose's voice sounded behind her, but the words didn't register, only Jake, as he smacked both hands into Edward's chest, causing him to stumble backwards. Another arm flew out from somewhere to try and restrain Jake, but he was clearly a man on a mission and, she suspected, he was also drunk.

Barrelling through the assembled crowd, which parted like the Red Sea in surprise and confusion, he was suddenly in front of Bella, where she stood frozen to the spot. Scowling, he reached out and wrapped a big hand tightly around her upper arm, which finally shook her from her paralysis.

"Jake, what the hell are you doing here?" she hissed, trying unsuccessfully to wrench her arm free.

"Hey, shithead, get your hands off her!"

Jake glanced up and sneered when he saw who had spoken.

"Well, if it isn't the tart with the frigid heart. Keep your nose out of this, bitch!" he snarled, pushing Bella backwards.

His other hand came up and encircled her neck, squeezing painfully.

"You think you can just walk out on me? You'd be nothing without me, just a cheap waitress, flashing your tits for bigger tips!"

A meaty hand clamped down on his shoulder, pulling him round and forcing him to let go of his prey.

"Let her go now and get out, before I make you. I don't like men who lay hands on women, and I really don't like it when they insult _my_ woman."

Jake tried to shrug out of Emmett's iron grip, but then another hand landed on his other shoulder.

"Emmett, we need to get this fucker out of here now," Edward urged, pulling Jake away from the two girls.

"Good idea. Let's go, pal." They manhandled a struggling Jake back the way he came, as he swore and yelled.

"BELLA! Bella, I love you… why are you doing this? You know I didn't mean to hurt you… we can work this out!"

She watched in horrified silence, Rose's arm around her shoulder, as their men dragged a voluble and protesting Jake towards the arch. He suddenly seemed to deflate, his shoulders dropping, and she finally turned away, finding comfort in her friend's ample bosom. Thus, she missed the flare of heat in his eyes, as he suddenly made a break towards her.

Lulled into a false sense of control, Edward and Emmett had loosened their grip and were completely taken by surprise as their prisoner shoved them off and ran back towards Bella.

"You fucking _bitch_, you think you can humiliate me like this and get away with it?" he shouted, eliciting gasps from those around him.

Bella swung round, shock and fear painted across her pale features.

Jake was quick—quicker than Emmett. But Edward was faster. He lurched forward and grabbed the collar of Jake's suit jacket, bringing him up short as the sound of material ripping filled the air.

He swung round, a murderous expression on his face.

"Get the fuck away from me, this is none of your business!" he snarled.

"Oh, it's my business, all right. Bella's _my_ girlfriend, and you're not welcome here!"

Jake sneered as he looked Edward up and down. "_You_? You have got to be kidding me! What, she's spreading her legs for schoolboys now? She's mine, and always will be!"

Edward clenched his jaw and his fists, desperately trying to maintain control. The last thing he wanted was for this to get any uglier and ruin Bella's night more than it already had.

"You gave up any rights to that claim when you beat the shit out of her, you fucking coward!" He kept his voice low, but in the silence which had now descended, his words carried clearly.

With a snarl, Jake launched himself at Edward, Bella's scream ringing in his ears.

He was a big man, and he was fit. He spent an hour a day in the gym doing weights and running on a treadmill. He had a good two inches and fifty pounds on Edward and, despite being nearly forty, he prided himself on being in superb physical condition. He had absolutely no doubt he could take down this skinny kid, and probably that muscle-bound oik as well. However, like many men of his ilk, who had spent a lifetime behind a desk just playing at being a hard man, he had no idea what real fighting was all about.

Edward had seen guys like him before—arrogant tossers* who thought all they needed to do was intimidate an opponent and land one good punch. But he had lived his entire adolescence on the street, defending himself against every kind of attack, and he only had contempt for this man, who used his strength and weight to beat up a woman less than half his size.

He sensed Emmett behind him and, without turning, held up his hand to forestall him.

"I've got this, mate."

He heard Bella's scream, but didn't allow himself to lose focus as Jake swung a fist at his face. He knew that if the heavier man hit him, his superior weight and strength would render him insensible—but Jake had to make contact first. In a swift, fluid movement, he swerved to one side, allowing Jake's fist to punch thin air. His failure to connect with Edward's face meant that his weight—and inebriation—unbalanced him, and he stumbled forward, exposing his ribs.

Edward stepped in and, with the speed of a striking cobra, his elbow shot out, connecting hard with Jake's kidney. He grunted and doubled over, and Edward pivoted as if he were on a turntable, grabbed the hair at the back of Jake's head, and pushed it down hard on his rising knee. He felt the crunch of bone, just before blood exploded from the man's nose, and Jake was seeing stars as he hit the floor.

The whole episode was over in less than thirty seconds.

Edward stood over Jake's prone body for a moment, but the sound of his name on Bella's lips snapped his head up in her direction.

"Oh, my God, Edward, are you all right?" She pulled away from Rose and hurled herself against his chest. She felt his arms wrap around her and immediately felt safe and calm. He kissed the top of her head, and then they both became aware of two sounds. The first was the swell of excited conversation in the room; the second was a police siren.

**~o0o~  
**

Two hours later, the police had left, taking a bleeding and protesting Jake away in handcuffs. Everyone questioned who had claimed to witness the fracas, insisted that he had burst into the event uninvited, attacked Bella and then Edward. They all said the same thing—that he had swung the first punch, Edward had moved out of the way, using his elbow to deflect Jake's charge, and that he must have broken his nose when he stumbled and fell on his face. Alice had rushed Edward into the bathroom before the police arrived and washed the blood off his trousers, and once they saw the bruises around Bella's neck and arm, they had no problem believing the stories of a dozen witnesses. This was made even easier by Jake's drunken and aggressive behaviour.

It took very little persuasion for Bella and Edward to press charges for assault, and they quickly agreed to go into Cirencester police station the following morning to give full statements.

Once the police had left with Jake, all the guests drifted away, leaving just Bella and her friends, and Alice's small team of willing staff, who set about cleaning up while she made coffee for those who wanted it. Carmen and Angela had apologised, saying they had to leave to get the late train back to London, as they both had commitments the following morning. They hugged Bella, telling her to call if she needed anything, before departing together in a taxi.

Edward walked over to the table where Bella was sitting with Rose and Esme. As he sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders, Alice set down hot drinks in front of them, along with platters of leftover _hors __d'oeuvres__._

Bella looked up at her friend, her eyes red-rimmed and smudged with mascara.

"Alice, I am so, so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" A fat tear slid down her cheek, and Edward reached over to wipe it away with his thumb.

Alice took the chair on the other side of her, and Edward sat back, letting his arm fall away in order to allow Alice to hug Bella.

"Shut up, you silly woman. There's absolutely nothing to forgive—this is _not_ your fault."

She pulled back, taking both of Bella's hands in hers.

"Besides, this town has never seen so much excitement—people will be talking about this for weeks… months… years, even. I just wish it didn't have to involve you getting hurt."

Bella gave her a small smile, but shook her head.

"I'm fine, Alice. It's just a few bruises—they don't even hurt. I've had a lot worse."

Alice frowned and squeezed her hands. She glanced past Bella at Edward, who immediately put his arm back around the still somewhat weepy woman, pulling her in close so that her head rested on his shoulder.

Rose leaned across the table and smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes.

"Hey, cheer up, Bell. At least you're here with your sexy as fuck new boyfriend, who will hopefully take you home shortly and roger you senseless, while that idiot ex of yours spends the night in a police cell. I know our bollocks-for-brains judiciary seem to actively condone violence against women, so he probably won't do time, but he'll get a record, which will likely mean he'll lose his job. And, as a bonus, you'll finally have grounds to get a restraining order against him. You've obviously made some good friends here, and Edward is clearly a lot more than just a pretty face, so it's all good."

She smirked mischievously, amused that the guy who had just laid out a much bigger and ostensibly stronger man was now blushing to his roots. She leaned back as Emmett walked over and stood behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently kneading the muscles there.

"Having said that, I'd feel a lot happier if I could imagine Mr Blackhead banged up in a shitty prison cell with a hairy-arsed, tattooed lifer who wants to make him his bitch."

Esme turned to look at Rose with a grimace. "Goodness, Rose, does that mean what I think it means?"

"Well, if you think it means Jake on his knees sucking cock, or taking it up the Gary Glitter* on a daily basis, then yes, that is what it means!"

There was a collective intake of breath as everyone looked from Rose to Esme.

"Oh, well, yes, that is what I thought. And I have to agree, that scenario would be remarkably satisfying."

The astonished silence that followed Esme's assertion lasted no more than a second or two, before it was broken by a loud snort of laughter from Bella.

"Oh, God, Rose… eloquent as ever, I see," she gasped.

And just like that, all the tension, which had surrounded the friends like a poisonous miasma, completely dissipated, chased away by the gales of laughter that erupted around the table.

When, at last, they had calmed and gathered their wits, by unspoken agreement, they all stood and pitched in to help with the clearing up. Eventually, however, Alice insisted that they'd done enough. They were all exhausted after a long day, exacerbated by the emotions and tension caused by Jake, so they were keen to get to their beds.

Rose and Emmett were staying at The Blue Boar, a local pub with bed and breakfast rooms, and were driving back to London the following afternoon. Delighted, Bella invited them both for lunch the next day so they would have a proper chance to catch up. Shamelessly exploiting the trauma of the night's events, she was able to persuade Carlisle to agree that Edward wouldn't have to go into work until the dinner shift—although Edward laughed ruefully when it became clear this meant he would still be cooking lunch.

They finally parted ways with hugs and good luck wishes for the following morning at the police station, and Jasper led the way to his car.

Back at Ivy Cottage, Bella invited Alice and Jasper in for a nightcap, but couldn't help feeling relieved when they declined, citing tiredness. Making their farewells, Edward unlocked the front door and led the way inside.

Bella took her coat off, hung it on a peg in the hallway and headed straight to the kitchen.

"God, I'm gasping for a cup of tea… do you want one?" she called over her shoulder.

"Yeah, that would be great. I'll go fix the fire."

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them sat on the sofa together, sipping hot tea. Edward had his legs stretched across the cushions in front of him with Bella lying between them, her back against his chest. He reached across and put his tea down on the coffee table, then took hers and set it down beside his. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her softly on her bruised neck.

"Are you okay?" he murmured against her skin.

Bella placed her hands over his and let her head fall back against his shoulder, tilting it to give him better access.

"Mmmmh, I'm fine, just tired."

They were quiet for a moment, and then Bella twisted round onto her knees, in order to look at Edward. She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek and pull him down for a kiss. Before it could escalate, however, Bella drew back, her eyes fixed on his.

"You were amazing tonight," she told him.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Seriously, Edward. The way you just… _dismissed_ Jake, I wanted to throw my arms around you and shout 'my hero'!

A shadow fell across his features as his eyes darkened, and he frowned.

"I wanted to kill him, Bella," he said lowly, the softness of his voice belying the violence behind his words. "I wanted to beat him to a pulp and kick his fucking head in. I've never felt so capable of murder in my life, not even with Paul or Tanya's pimp. It fucking scared me."

He tightened his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. In response, she put her hands around his neck and played with the soft hair at his nape.

"But that's the difference between you and a man like Jake. He uses his anger and his fists to intimidate and control women."

She pulled her right hand away from his neck and placed it over his heart, causing him to look up at her.

"Your anger comes from here, Edward. It comes from love and a need to protect, and because your heart is good, it allows you to control your anger. You truly were my hero in every sense tonight, and I'm incredibly proud of you."

He smiled at last, leaning forward slightly to place a soft kiss on Bella's mouth.

"Hero, eh? Does that make you a damsel in distress?"

Bella raised herself up on her knees and then lifted first one leg and then the other until she was straddling him. Then she eased herself down and started to move against him.

"Oh, yeah, I'm definitely in distress," she said, grinding down on his hardening cock, as he groaned against her breasts. "I know it's probably wrong, but seeing you beat up that tosser was just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I am so fucking horny right now."

Edward lifted his head, his lips seeking hers. They kissed again, but this time there was no gentleness and little finesse. Teeth clashed and tongues tangled, as they both breathed loudly through their noses, taking their fill.

Breaking apart at last, they stared wordlessly at each other, even as they continued to move in perfect synchronicity. Then, as if by telepathic communication, Bella wrapped both her legs around Edward's waist, as he swung his own legs off the sofa. Then, with her head buried in his neck, he clasped his hands under her bottom and stood up.

Without bothering to finish their tea or turn out the lights, Edward carried her upstairs and to the bedroom, where he set her down on her feet. Turning her round, he quickly unzipped her dress, while she kicked off her shoes. As she shimmied out of her underwear, he rapidly divested himself of his own clothes.

Within minutes they were naked and under the covers.

At the moment he pushed into her tight, wet heat, they probably would have both been surprised at the similarity of their thoughts.

**~o0o~**

The next morning found Bella and Edward in Cirencester, giving their statements, following which an officer took photos of her bruises. They were told that Jake had been held overnight in the cells and would be arraigned later that morning at the local Magistrate's Court, where he was expected to plead not guilty and apply for police bail, which he would almost certainly be granted.

Bella was appalled at this news, but the officer assured her that all this meant was that the case would be sent to Crown Court. Based on Edward's statement, and those of the other witnesses, Jake would be found guilty. He told them it was unlikely that, for a first offence, he would get a custodial sentence, but he would have to do community service and may well even have to wear an electronic tag. He advised her to talk to a solicitor about taking out a restraining order, which she agreed to do. Finally, he tried to put her mind at rest by saying they would make sure he left the area immediately, so she shouldn't worry about him trying to see her.

Somewhat mollified, Edward and Bella returned home, determined to put it out of their minds, at least until after their lunch with Rose and Emmett.

**~o0o~  
**

Conversation and laughter ebbed and flowed effortlessly around the dining table later that day, as the four friends shared stories of their pasts over wonderful food, and talked about their lives now.

Earlier, Bella had watched Edward prepare lunch, and had been filled with awe at his skill. If he had been confident in the kitchen before, he was now master of his environment and, for the first time, she really understood and accepted what Carlisle had said.

She tried very hard not to dwell on what his future might hold.

Now that they were at the table, the compliments and appreciative noises of his companions made him blush with pleasure. Rose, in particular, insisted that he could get a job in a top London restaurant, and Bella had to mask her concern that she was right, that he would quickly move on… without her.

Desperate to change the subject, she asked Rose what she'd been doing since they last saw one another.

"Well, when you left _Angelo's,_ it kind of prompted me to sort out my shit. I signed up to do a marketing degree with the Open University,* and now I'm working for Onside, one of the country's biggest sporting agencies. Actually, that's how I met Emmett. He was playing rugby for a small south London team and approached us to handle his career."

Emmett smiled adoringly at the beautiful blonde beside him. "Yeah, thanks to Onside, I got signed up by Leicester Tigers* on a really great deal. We're currently third in the league with a good chance of winning it this season. I'm out with a shoulder injury right now, which is why I was able to come with Rose this weekend, but I should be back playing in a couple of weeks."

Rose rubbed a hand up and down his bulging biceps and grinned up at him proudly.

"Emmett is a really talented flanker and is tipped to get picked to play for England in next season's Six Nations campaign."

Bella was delighted to see her friend so happy. Rose had always been a bit down on men, constantly insisting they were all wankers. She'd never seemed to find anyone who could see past her looks and love her for who she really was, someone who could challenge her, be her equal. From what she could see, Emmett ticked every box, and she already loved him for it.

All too soon, it was time for them to take their leave. Walking out to the car with Rose behind Emmett, the two friends promised to keep in better touch, and Rose elicited a promise from Bella that she and Edward would visit soon. They hugged, the deep affection they both felt for one another evident in the tightness of the embrace. Bella bit back tears, while Rose hid her emotions by ribbing Bella about being a wuss.

"I like Edward, he's a great guy, Bell. You seem happy."

"I am, Rose, I really am. I think… I mean, I know it's been quick, but… I think he might be the one… you know?"

Rose glanced over to where Emmett waited for her by the car. "Yeah, I do, hun."

"Emmett's great, Rose. He clearly thinks the sun shines out of your admittedly-amazing arse. Do you think he might be _your_ one?"

Rose laughed, but then let her face fall into a serious expression. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see."

Bella stood in the driveway as Emmett manoeuvred his car out onto the road, waving until it disappeared. She continued to stand outside long after they had gone, missing her friend already.

She was pulled from her melancholic thoughts by two strong arms wrapping themselves around her waist, as Edward moulded himself to her and kissed the top of her head.

"Penny for them?" he asked quietly.

"It's nothing, I was just thinking how good it was to see Rose. I like Emmett—he's good for her."

She turned her head to peer up at him, smiling against his lips as he dipped his head to kiss her softly.

He stepped back and took her hand, leading her back inside the house. They went straight to the sitting room, where Edward guided her to the sofa. He put his arm round her and she curled into his side.

"Are you okay? You're not worrying about your scumbag ex, are you? Because you know I'll take care of you, don't you?"

Bella nodded against his chest and then sat up a little.

"I'm not really worried. I'm mean, I'm still going to apply for a restraining order, but, having thought about it, I really can't be bothered to waste any more time thinking about Jake. From what that policeman said, he's shitting bricks about being convicted for assault—I'm pretty sure his company has a strict policy on that kind of thing, and they could fire him for gross misconduct, without any severance pay or a reference. I reckon he's got more to worry about than me."

She settled back in against him. It occurred to Edward that what Bella had said might well give Jake a very real motive for revenge. But he knew there was nothing to be gained by verbalising his concern, other than to upset her, so he chose to say no more on the subject. However, he suspected that there was more to Bella's current introspective mood than just the departure of her friend.

Unfortunately, there was no time to get to the bottom of what was preoccupying her right now, as he had to get ready to go to work. He reached down and tipped her face up to him, leaning in to kiss her deeply. All too soon, however, he was pulling away.

"Shit, Bella, I really need to get moving, otherwise Carlisle will have my balls for starters."

He stood, and Bella got to her feet as well. "I'll give you a lift. I want to go see Alice, so we can stick your bike in the back of the car. Just give me ten minutes."

**~o0o~  
**

After she had dropped Edward off at the restaurant, she walked down the High Street to 'Wonderland'. Stepping through from the bookshop, she was astonished to see that the café was almost entirely restored to its former layout. Most of the shelving had been put back in place, although with marked differences. It was a little more spread out, with some units reduced in height.

In the spaces provided, Bella's artwork continued to be hung, making a dazzling display. The pieces that had been auctioned had, of course, been taken down, but those that she had donated to the shop remained to great effect. Her three-part painting, 'Where Roads Converge', was still hanging over the fireplace, and there was a small group of people gathered in front of it, talking about it and pointing at various elements of the work.

"Every single person who's come in here today has stood and stared at those paintings for an inordinate amount of time—it's done wonders for coffee sales!"

Bella turned as Alice stepped up beside her.

"It's a stunning piece, Bella, I'll be sorry to see it come down."

She turned back to look at the three canvases, remembering how the images had flowed out of her in a way she'd never experienced before. Last night had been such a whirl of people and conversation, followed by the drama of Jake's unwelcome intrusion, so this was the first time she'd really had a chance to appreciate it as a mounted and displayed work. She walked further into the room so that she was dead in front of it, but several feet behind the group by the fire.

Alice followed her as she continued to gaze wordlessly at the images. She watched as myriad emotions flickered across Bella's face, wondering what was going through her mind.

"Do you have somewhere to hang it?" she asked when Bella remained silent.

As if she had been dragged from somewhere far away, Bella shook her head and looked at Alice.

"Um, yes, I think it would look good over the fireplace in the sitting room, just like you have it here. I'm sorry I can't let you keep it, Alice, it's just too…"

"Personal? Don't be silly, Bella, of course you must take it back. Besides, I don't think I can afford a Swan original. And you've already been more than generous with the pictures you've loaned me."

Bella frowned. "They're not on loan, Alice—they're yours to keep. It's the least I can do, and don't you dare try to give them back," she told her emphatically.

"Bella, that's too generous—"

"Stop, Alice, I won't hear another word on the subject. Apart from the ridiculous amount of money your exhibition raised for Angela's charity, have you got any idea how much interest I've received for my artwork? No, these belong here, and that's that. If you could take down the snow scenes, I'll collect them later this week and take them home."

She smiled at Alice and, on impulse, pulled her into her arms, hugging her tightly.

Drawing apart, they smiled warmly at one another.

"Okay, fine… and thank you, Bella, that's really kind of you. Of course, it means that all future cups of coffee are on the house… and that's _my_ final word on the subject."

**~o0o~  
**

It was late when Edward got home, but Bella was sitting up reading on the sofa in front of a glowing fire.

Dropping down on the couch beside her, he pulled her into his arms, into which she willingly went.

"How was work?" she asked against his chest. He smelled of herbs and spices, but his essential scent was there, making her feel warm and safe.

"Good. Busy. How about you?" he replied, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"Yeah, pretty good. I've worked through a lot of the changes on the book—it's coming together really well."

She offered to get him a drink, but he shook his head, tightening his hold on her.

"No, I'm fine. This is all I need, just being here with you."

They continued to talk quietly for a while, happy to be together, alone, after the excitement and stress of the last couple of days. It would soon be Christmas, with Edward pulling long shifts and Bella preparing for their visitors.

But for now, it was just the two of them, and they revelled in it.

"Carlisle has agreed to incorporate a couple more of my recipes on the menu. God, I can't believe how lucky I've been getting that job. He's such a brilliant chef, and he's just been so great."

Bella pulled back so that she could look at his face, her brow arched.

"Maybe you were lucky to be in the right place at the right time, but you got that job because he saw the promise in you, the same as I did. You deserve his support and patronage. You've worked hard for it. I am so proud of you, my love," she said, her voice low and full of the admiration she felt for him.

Edward's lips parted and his eyes glittered like polished emeralds. "Am I?"

Bella frowned in confusion. "Are you what?"

"Am I your love?"

The look he gave her was so intense, that she felt compelled to sit back as she regarded him.

Glancing down, she took his right hand in both of hers, raising it to her mouth and placing a soft kiss on his palm.

Her eyes drifted back to his, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Do you know, I very much think you might be," she said quietly, smiling as his eyes went wide.

And then she was in his arms, his mouth on hers, on her neck, her shoulder… everywhere he could reach. In between kisses, his words tumbled out like confetti from a box.

"Oh, God, Bella… I love you… so much… I know it's too soon... but I don't care… you're it for me… I love you…"

Her heart soared, beating wildly inside her chest. "Edward, oh, Edward, I love you, too."

They kissed for what seemed like hours, but it was Bella who pulled back first, all her old worries and insecurities racing back to the fore.

"What… what is it?" he asked, his eyes blazing.

"Oh, God, I don't know… maybe we are moving too fast—"

His eyes widened in panic. "What? No! You don't mean that—"

She pressed two fingers to his lips, cutting him off.

"Think about it, Edward. Carlisle has such high hopes for you. He's pretty sure you won't be stuck in a small town restaurant for the rest of your life. He says you could eventually work anywhere. It's only a matter of time before you get itchy feet and want to spread your wings. And there's no way I would ever stand in your way. You're still so young—"

Now it was his turn to interrupt.

"Are you saying I'm _too_ young for you? That you want to break up?" His voice cracked as he spoke, his eyes full of desperate fear.

"No! God, no, Edward. That's the last thing I want. I… I love you. But if you got another job… if you wanted to leave…" She took a deep breath, trying to calm her trembling voice.

"Jesus, Bella, you scared me. First of all, I've got a long way to go before I finish learning my trade, and CQ is where I want to be to do that. Then… well, who knows what's round the corner. I certainly never anticipated meeting a woman like you and ending up with an amazing career. But if—and that's a _big_ if—I ever wanted to move on from CQ, then I'd hope you would support me and… well, would it be impossible for you to come with me? This is where I live right now, but you… you're my home, Bella. You always will be… if that's what you want?"

He was asking her, and she knew, in that moment, that it was what she wanted… _he_ was what she wanted.

"Yes, it's what I want," she breathed.

He closed his eyes, giving a silent prayer of thanks. When he opened them again, he saw a single tear track its way down Bella's face, prompting him to reach out and gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb.

"Fuck, Bella, don't ever scare me like that again. I want to make this work, and I will never… _never_ do anything to risk losing what we have. I love you. You're everything to me. I wouldn't even _have_ a fucking career if it wasn't for you! I'm in this for the long haul—surely you must know that by now?"

Still not daring to believe she could have everything she ever wanted—success, money, great friends, a beautiful home and the love of this perfect man—Bella still found herself questioning his motives.

"I don't want you to stay with me out of gratitude, Edward," she whispered, hardly able to say the words, for fear they might be true.

He threw himself against the back of the sofa, his hands desperately gripping his hair as his jaw clenched.

"Edward—"

"Jesus Christ, Bella—you think I'm with you because I'm _grateful?_ I… _shit, _what do I have to say to make you understand how I feel about you?"

He dropped his hands and stared at her.

She sighed and looked away for a moment, before letting her eyes drift back to his. The torment she saw there made her heart ache.

_What the hell am I doing? I love him, and for some ridiculous reason, he apparently loves me._

She reached over, taking both his hands where they rested on his thighs, and holding them tightly.

"Nothing, Edward. You don't have to say anything else. I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry. I… I suppose I was just afraid that you would… oh, I don't know… find someone younger one day. Someone like Jessica—she's so pretty and she's your age—"

"And she's an empty-headed little tart, who bores me to death. You honestly think I'd prefer to be with someone like _her_?"

Bella said nothing for a moment, then shook her head and dropped her gaze.

"No, I don't… not in my heart of hearts. I'm a fool…" She looked up at him, letting go of his hands and raising them to cup his face. "I love you … I've never felt like this about anyone, and I want this… with you… so much. Please forgive me for doubting you?"

He covered her hands with his, sliding them down and holding them against his chest.

"I'll forgive you, but only if you promise to stop obsessing about shit like our age difference. I know this has all happened really fast, but I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I just want you to give us a chance, Bella, that's all."

"Okay, I can do that," she whispered.

He let go of her hands, and pulled her into his arms, kissing her softly. As soon as she felt his lips on hers she opened up to him, letting his tongue slip in and glide against hers. The kiss was slow and long, almost as though they were reconnecting after being apart for a long time—re-learning one another.

Soon after, their lovemaking was similarly exploratory. It was tender and gentle as they took their time to rediscover what they thought they were in danger of losing. Taking their time, when Edward finally entered Bella's wet and welcoming body, their moans of pleasure were as much about relief as the passion they felt at their coming together. His thrusts were slow and deep, both of them wanting the moment to last. In perfect, synchronised harmony, they moved together, building to a climax of such intensity that when they crested the edge, Bella was incapable of holding back the tears that spilled down her face.

Finally stilling, Edward rolled onto his side, pulling Bella with him, and with whispered words of love, they fell asleep in each other's arms—sated, replete, and totally secure, at last, in their feelings.

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

Tosser – same as wanker; Americans would say 'jerk-off' or similar  
Gary Glitter – Disgraced British glam-rock pop star of the 1970s; now Cockney rhyming slang for 'shitter', which is hopefully self-explanatory!  
Open University – This is for people who want to study part time, or as mature students who have opted for an academic career later in life. Courses are undertaken online and part-time at local universities.  
Leicester Tigers – Premier League Rugby Union team


	21. Celebration

**Chapter 21 ~ Celebration**

Christmas came like a distance runner—steadily at first until it reached the home straight, where it sprinted to the finish line.

Bella put Jake out of her mind—the police had informed her that his trial date was set for late in January. The day after she had aired her concerns to Edward and they had declared their feelings to one another, she called her solicitor in London to discuss taking out a restraining order. She had been introduced to Jay Jenks by Eli, and he had become a trusted advisor. He took all the details of the police report and assured her that he would take care of everything.

She was comforted by his words, but still voiced her concerns about what might happen if Jake decided to just ignore the order and come looking for her again.

"Tell you what, Bella. I've got an excellent investigator on a retainer and I can ask him to check out Black, keep tabs on him and make sure he doesn't decide to take it into his head to do something stupid before his trial. Tyler is very discreet and has a very capable team on his payroll. If you want, I can talk to him, and email you a quote for his services."

Bella really liked the idea of keeping Jake under surveillance, and readily agreed to Jay's suggestion. Just as she was about to end the call, a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Oh, Jay, one other thing. This guy, Tyler, can he find people?"

"Of course. Who did you have in mind?"

Bella explained what she needed, relieved when Jay told her that he was sure it would be no problem. He promised to email her later, after he'd spoken to his investigator.

Jay was as good as his word, and, upon receipt of his email a few hours later, Bella responded immediately, confirming her acceptance of Crowley Investigations' terms for the twin commissions. The following day, Tyler Crowley himself called her to get a few more details about her secondary task, repeating Jay's contention that it would be no problem, and that he would report back to her weekly, or more often if he had news.

**~o0o~  
**

Bella filled her days by working on her novel, painting and preparing for the holiday. Edward was busy in the restaurant and spent a lot of his down-time learning as much as he could about food and flavourings, working on new recipes and other ideas for the restaurant. He was always tired after a long shift, but Bella could see that he was deeply content.

She knew, because the look in his eyes mirrored her own. She had no idea it was possible to be so happy.

At night, when Edward got home from work, they made sure to spend at least an hour together downstairs, talking about their day. Sometimes, he was too tired to make love when they went to bed, but the mornings were a different matter. Bella had never been a particular fan of morning sex, but that was before Edward. Being woken by him was never less than a delight, and she revelled in the way he worshipped her body in the early hours before their day started.

She had never felt so close to another human being, and with each day that passed, she fell more in love with him.

As for Edward, his nightmares had almost completely receded, and he rarely woke in the night anymore. His contentment knew no bounds. He'd gone from literally having nothing, to having everything he'd never dared to dream of. His love for Bella was so profound, that he could barely bring himself to imagine his life without her. He knew that the unhappiness and despair he'd experienced in the years following his mother's death would pale into insignificance against the excruciating pain he would suffer, should he lose Bella.

Each day she became more beautiful to him. When they made love, they would maintain eye contact as much as possible, and he often felt that he could see right into her very soul. He had no doubt that she could see into his, because, with her, he bared all. Following years of keeping his emotions tightly reined in, it was a revelation to open himself fully to another person. He hid nothing from her, and he could see that after struggling with her own insecurities, Bella was finally throwing off the shackles of Jake's negative and destructive influence.

Since the night when she had terrified him with her doubts, they had talked a lot about her fears. Clearly, Jake had done a number on her. After years of professional rejection, and a string of failed romances, he had played on her many insecurities, making her feel worthless, stupid and plain. It was obvious to Edward that Jake's initial enthusiasm and support for her work was just a means to draw her in, before he set about destroying her confidence in order to control her. How anyone could do that to a woman like Bella was beyond his understanding. Apart from her exceptional beauty, she was highly intelligent, massively creative, and just about the kindest, most compassionate person he'd ever met.

She was also, as far as he was concerned, the sexiest woman on the planet.

Being with Bella and having the job of his dreams would have been enough on their own. However, as incredible as their life together was, he also revelled in the friendships he'd made since that portentous night just a couple of months before. What little social life they were able to enjoy, between work commitments and alone-time, was filled with camaraderie and laughter, something he'd never really known before.

'Lucky' was just too small a word for how Edward felt.

**~o0o~  
**

On the Sunday before Christmas, Edward and Bella took time out to buy a Christmas tree—the first real one either of them had ever had. They put it up in the corner by the door, as far from the fire as they could get it, not wanting it to dry out too quickly. They decorated it together with all-new baubles, beaded garlands and tiny, twinkling lights, and then turned the room lights off.

They both curled up together on the sofa, facing the tree, just gazing at it in the firelight. When Bella started crying, Edward pulled her round to face him, gazing into her tear-filled eyes with concern.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked anxiously.

"Nothing," she sniffed. "Nothing at all. I'm just so happy, I… I suppose I feel like there's not enough room inside me for all this happiness. Oh, Edward, I love you so much!"

"I love you too, baby… more than my life."

They kissed passionately, and in the warm glow cast by the fire and the Christmas tree, they made love until they fell asleep in the flickering tree lights, exhausted.

**~o0o~  
**

At Cullenary Quisine the following day, Esme ushered the last lunchtime diners out the door with wishes for a happy Christmas and turned the sign to 'closed'.

It was Christmas Eve, and she and Carlisle had decided to close the restaurant at three o'clock and let everyone start their celebrations early.

She went to the counter and gathered the receipts to start cashing up. In the kitchen, the staff finished clearing up and filled the dishwasher with the last of the plates, cutlery and glasses. When they were done, Carlisle invited them to join him for a Christmas drink out front, where they all sat around a couple of tables pushed together.

Esme poured drinks for everyone and then sat down with them, a small pile of envelopes beside her.

Carlisle stood, and looked around at the people in front of him.

"I'm not going to make a big speech, so don't look so worried," he said, making them all chuckle. "I just wanted to say a few quick words to you all. I know we've only been open a matter of weeks, and this is a hard business to do well in, especially in the middle of the worst recession in living memory. But, due in no small part to all your hard work and enthusiasm, we've exceeded our wildest expectations. So, thank you and happy Christmas!"

He raised his glass, prompting everyone to do the same as they enthusiastically verbalised their own Christmas wishes.

He sat down, smiling broadly. His eyes then fixed on his wife, who now spoke.

"Yes, we really are hugely grateful for your efforts, and with your help, I think we can all look forward to a great new year. But it's Christmas and Carl and I would like to give you all something a little more tangible than mere words to show our appreciation. These are your payslips, and we've included a small bonus."

She picked up the envelopes, each marked with a name, and started distributing them around the table.

"Don't open them now, wait until you get home," she said to the delighted faces.

They finished their drinks and then collected their coats and bags. With hugs and handshakes, they all departed. Edward was the last to leave, and Carlisle held him back for a moment.

"There's a little extra in there for you, Edward, but don't tell the others."

"Carlisle, I—"

"Don't say anything. You've been a big part of our success, son, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you here for as long as possible. Having said that, if you ever want to leave, I hope you'll come to me first—I know a lot of people who could help you. You've got a bright future ahead of you, Edward, once you've got some more experience… I just hope you opt to stay here until you're ready to take on the world. The restaurant trade can be brutal, and you've still got a lot to learn."

"I know, Carlisle. And I can't look that far ahead. I love it here, and I'll be sticking around for a while yet. But I promise I'll talk to you before I think about doing anything else."

"Good man. Now, go home to your girl, and have a great Christmas. I'll see you on the twenty-eighth."

Edward nodded and offered his hand to shake, but Carlisle pulled him into a hug. Then Esme was beside them, and he turned to embrace her as well.

"Happy Christmas, Carlisle, Esme… and thanks, for everything." He turned to walk back through the kitchen and out the back door, where his bike was parked. Unable to wait until he got home, Edward pulled the envelope out of his pocket and opened it. Inside was his payslip and a bundle of fifty pound notes. Frowning, he pulled them out and counted them.

_Fuck me, two hundred quid?_

He turned his head to look back at the door through which he had just exited. He couldn't believe it. He had never held so much money in his hand. He shook his head, once again astonished at his good fortune, as he stuffed the money back into the envelope and pushed it into the back pocket of his jeans. He manoeuvred his bike through the back yard and climbed on, deciding to go straight to the antique shop where the owner was holding Bella's gift for him.

**~o0o~**

Back at home, Bella had just returned from her shopping trip to Cheltenham, and was manhandling the large, unwieldy gift she'd bought for Edward up the stairs to her studio. She knew he never went in there, and it was the only safe place she could think of to hide it. Just as that thought crossed her mind, she heard the front door open, making her swear softly as Edward's voice drifted up towards her.

"I'll be down in a minute," she called, hurrying up the remaining steps before he spotted her.

Once her shopping was safely stowed away, she headed downstairs, finding Edward in the kitchen.

"You're home early," she said, walking straight over to where he stood by the sink, filling the kettle. When she reached him, he put it down on the counter and turned to accept her embrace and the kiss she planted on his mouth.

"Ummh, yeah, Carlisle closed the restaurant early and let us all leave after lunch."

They kissed again before breaking apart, and Bella turned to pick up the grocery bags she'd brought in earlier.

"Is that the goose?" Edward asked, holding his hands out for one of the bags.

"Yeah, I picked it up on the way home, along with the rest of the stuff from the farmers' market. The rest of the shopping is being delivered in the next half an hour or so."

"This looks like a lovely bird. I'll do a citrus stuffing and make a date and red wine gravy—it should be delicious."

Bella smiled at his enthusiasm. It had been Edward's idea to get a goose instead of a turkey, and she was really looking forward to it, especially as it was being cooked by such an expert chef.

"Sounds wonderful, my love—I can't wait."

He grinned at her, and went to find a plate to put the goose on.

"So, what do you want for dinner? I could throw something quick together, if you like," he said over his shoulder.

"Oh, let's not bother—you've been cooking all day. Alice and Jasper said there's a few people going to the pub later—we could walk up there after the groceries turn up, get an early bite to eat and have a few drinks—that way, we'll be home at a reasonable time. I've only got a few presents left to wrap, so if you prep the goose before we go out, we can finish everything else when we get back from the pub, and we'll only have the veggies to do in the morning."

Their plans settled, they finished their chores, got changed and headed out to the pub, hand-in-hand.

**~o0o~  
**

It was still dark when Edward stood back from the fire he'd just lit and turned to look at the Christmas tree. He'd turned the fairy lights on when he entered the room and with the presents scattered around the bottom, wrapped in alternate silver and purple foil paper to match the tree decorations, it looked wonderful. He and Bella had also put up pretty garlands around the room. Clustered along windowsills and pinned to the fire lintel were sprigs of fresh holly with bright scarlet berries adding to the festive feel.

Peter and Charlotte would be arriving in a few hours, so he quickly took the bucket of ashes out the back and then set about preparing a light breakfast to take upstairs. He'd left Bella sleeping, and wanted to surprise her… and maybe even squeeze in some Christmas morning loving before they both got started on preparing dinner.

With one more look around him, Edward was aware that the warmth he felt wasn't just from the fire, it was from deep within him. This would be the best Christmas he'd ever had, and he was determined to enjoy every minute of it.

**~o0o~  
**

Putting the finishing touches to the dining table, Edward turned when he felt a warm hand on his back. He smiled at Charlotte, taken aback once more at how much Bella resembled her aunt. Same hint of dark hair, now more grey than brown, and the very same soulful brown eyes.

"Need any help, Edward?"

"Nope, it's all sorted, Charlotte. And I thought Bella and I made it clear—you and Peter are supposed to be sitting by the fire and letting us do the work." He cocked an eyebrow at her in remonstrance, but she just laughed.

She and her husband had got there just after ten o'clock, and Edward had chased Bella out of the kitchen shortly after so that she could sit and catch up with her only relatives. It quickly became clear that she had told them a lot about him in emails and phone conversations, as they were well aware of their status as a couple and of his budding career. It seemed she had also told them about how they'd met, much to his surprise and initial chagrin.

When Bella had come into the kitchen to get some snacks, he had questioned her about it, not entirely able to hide his disappointment that she had shared so much about his past.

Pulling him round to face her, she had slipped an arm around his waist and cupped his cheek with one hand.

"I've never kept anything from them, Edward, and I don't want to start lying to them now. I promise you, they don't think any less of you. They were surprised when I first told them, and they gave me the usual lecture on the foolishness of my actions, but they understand now, and they are full of admiration for how you've worked so hard to make something of your life. They like you, and they're happy for me."

She had kissed him, and it had been impossible for him to remain angry with her.

Now, as he smiled down at Charlotte, he could see in her eyes that Bella was right, and he realised he was glad he wouldn't have to pretend with her or Peter.

"The table looks great, Edward, and the aromas coming from the kitchen are making my mouth water. If the food tastes half as good as it smells, we're in for a treat. I can't wait… I haven't had goose since I was a child," she told him wistfully.

"I hope it'll be good. It should be ready about three o'clock, and I only need to put the vegetables on about twenty minutes beforehand, so why don't you go back and sit down, I'll grab a beer and be there in a sec?"

"That would be great," she said, patting his arm. She paused for a moment, and then looked towards the sitting room, making sure they wouldn't be overheard. Edward frowned, looking at her expectantly.

"Edward, you seem like a nice boy, and I want to say that you seem to be making Bella very happy. I know that she's told you about that awful man, Black, so you also know that she's had a difficult time. She's never shared the details, but I'm pretty sure it was a lot worse than she made out… I didn't meet him personally, but just from brief conversations on the phone I know I didn't like him. You, of course, did have the bad luck to meet him, but from what Bella tells us, you certainly put him in his place."

She paused again, but Edward merely shrugged, remaining silent. She clearly had more to say.

She sighed, seeming to be choosing her words carefully.

"You obviously care deeply for Bella, and it's as clear as the nose on your face that she thinks the world of you. She's very precious to me and Peter, and I probably don't need to say this, but… well, I wouldn't be doing my job as her surrogate parent if I didn't say _something_. I… look, I know you're a lot younger than her—and I've got no problem with that—but please, Edward, don't hurt her. She's the sweetest, kindest girl you could ever meet, and she deserves to be happy. There, I've said it. I hope you know I have nothing against you—I like you a lot. I… well, it just had to be said."

She looked up at him, her eyes begging for his understanding. He was happy to put her mind at ease.

"Oh, Charlotte, I love that you're looking out for Bella—how could I have a problem with that? And I promise you, I will never do anything to hurt her. She's precious to me too, you know."

She nodded, satisfied, and turned to go back to the others.

A few minutes later, Edward joined Bella and her family, taking the seat next to her on the sofa and immediately entwining his fingers with hers.

Peter sat on the chair nearest the fire, a walking stick propped against the arm. After what Bella had told him about her uncle, Edward had expected him to be in a wheelchair, but he had managed to walk from the car and into the house—albeit slowly and leaning heavily on his stick. His hands were gnarled by rheumatoid arthritis, but he was able to hold a drink and seemed in good spirits. Apparently, the expensive new drugs he was getting via the private medical treatment Bella paid for had worked wonders. He would never be cured, of course, or, indeed, completely free of pain, but he had been able to get back some of his mobility, and it had gone a long way towards lifting the depression from which he'd been suffering over the last ten years or more.

Bella had been worried that Peter wouldn't be able to get up the stairs, but although his progress was slow, he had managed it better than any of them expected. This small triumph had given them all something to celebrate, and Bella couldn't help giggling as her aunt and uncle embraced the spirit of Christmas in every way.

Over dinner, Bella beamed with pride at Charlotte and Peter's effusive compliments on the meal, and Edward reached under the table to squeeze Bella's hand when her relatives waxed lyrical about her generosity. They told him about the small, comfortable bungalow she had bought for them in a quiet, leafy suburb, a world away from the shabby flat in the 1960s-built tower block they had occupied on one of London's most depressed council estates. They had been on the fifteenth floor of a shabby high-rise, where the lifts rarely worked, trapping them both indoors for long periods. Gangs of delinquent youths and vandals constantly roamed the walkways, daubing graffiti on every static surface, leaving Peter and Charlotte often terrified to even venture out their front door.

Edward correctly surmised that although new medication had made a big difference to Peter's physical well-being, the move he and Charlotte had made to a pleasant, affluent area of London must also have played its part in helping him regain a little more mobility and, with it, his dignity.

It was just one more piece of evidence—if, indeed, it was needed—that Bella was an angel. Her kindness and compassion seemed to have no limit and, as he did every day, Edward thanked whatever deity had sent her to him.

With dinner finished, the dishwasher loaded and running, leftovers stored in the fridge, and the kitchen cleared, the four of them retired to the sitting room, drinks in hand, and settled down to open their presents.

There were silly little gifts, like novelty socks and underwear, a ridiculous Rudolph sweater for Peter, which he promptly put on, and some Christmas earrings for Charlotte, which contained little flashing lights. They all giggled over these, before opening their main presents.

Edward had been at a loss over what to buy for Bella's aunt and uncle, and had thrown himself on Esme's mercy, who had proved to be a godsend. As Charlotte revealed a soft, chocolate brown leather handbag with a delighted smile, and Peter unfolded a full-length, fleece-lined dressing gown with an equally happy expression, Edward knew she had guided him well. In turn, they had given him gift vouchers and a bottle of 'Dior Homme Intense'. He'd never worn any kind of cologne or aftershave before, but when Bella leaned over to take a sniff and hummed with appreciation at the scent, he determined to wear it as often as possible when he wasn't working.

As the gifts under the tree diminished, and everyone had collected their small pile of personal treasure beside them, Edward fetched over a small, silver-wrapped package. He sat back on the sofa next to Bella and handed it to her with a shy smile. She had already given him several things—mostly clothes, but her final present to him had been an iPod and a £50 iTunes voucher, which he'd been delighted with. As ever, she had been much too generous, but he'd learned to accept what she gave him graciously—although it made him even more determined to work hard so that he could one day reciprocate in equal measure.

Now, he waited nervously for her to unwrap the gift he'd saved until last, while her aunt and uncle looked on.

Revealing a small, worn, black velvet box about four inches square, she glanced up at him curiously, seeing the doubt in his grass-green eyes.

"I hope you like it… but if you don't, the guy in the shop said I could change it for something else…" he told her quietly.

She shook her head, knowing that there was no way she would ever exchange a gift from this wonderful man whom she loved so much.

She looked back down at the box and opened it slowly. As she revealed the contents, she gasped softly, putting her hand to her mouth.

Inside was a slender gold bracelet, one end of which was fashioned into delicate branches, topped with small purple and green stones.

Edward reached across and took it out of the box, then took her left hand and slipped it onto her wrist.

"Do you like it? I know it's not new, but the guy in the shop said it's gold, and that the stones are amethysts and some kind of semi-precious stone, sorry, I can't remember the name…" He trailed off, a little embarrassed, and worried now that Bella's silence meant that she did not, in fact, like it.

At last, she dragged tear-filled eyes away from the pretty bangle on her wrist to meet his. As she did, it occurred to her that the green stones of her bracelet matched the beautiful eyes she'd come to adore.

"Edward, it's… it's stunning… I love it!"

With that, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Automatically, his own arms wrapped tightly around her, burying his face in her sweet-smelling hair. He felt her lips move against his ear as she whispered her thanks and love over and over.

A low chuckle from the other side of the room brought them back to the moment, and they parted, smiling.

"You really like it, then?"

"Yes, Edward, really… it's beautiful, thank you so much." She stood up, her eyes drifting to her wrist, where the bracelet sparkled in the light cast by the glowing fire. "I just have to pop upstairs for a moment… why don't you refresh the drinks."

He nodded and stood up to follow her out of the room. Once through the door, he closed it behind him, at the same time reaching out for Bella's hand and pulling her back to him. Immediately, he buried his hands in her hair and crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue sliding over her plump lower lip, causing her to open up to him. The kiss was long and intense as they both poured everything they felt into it. When they finally drew apart, he looked down at her, his long thumb gently stroking her cheek.

"I've been dying to do that for the last three hours. This has been the best Christmas of my life… I love you, Bella." His final words were whispered reverently as she smiled up at him.

"I love you too, you sweet, wonderful man."

They stood for a moment, just basking in the feelings they saw mirrored in one another's eyes, then Bella was extricating herself from Edward's embrace.

"Go get the drinks, I'll be right back." With one more light peck on his cheek, she ran upstairs, and he headed into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Bella loitered outside the sitting room, the bulky gift she'd bought for Edward standing on its end. Looking down at it, she sighed at the memory of how difficult it had been to wrap, and she knew he would be in no doubt as to what it was as soon as she entered the room. She just hoped he would like it.

Turning the doorknob, she cracked open the door and popped her head round to see everyone turn and look at her curiously.

"Bella? Is everything okay?" Edward asked, starting to stand.

Bella waved her hand up and down to indicate that he should remain seated and pushed the door open wider. She watched as he frowned and then his eyes went wide when he took in what she was carrying.

"What…?"

She walked over to him and put the large, messily-wrapped package down, holding it by the top.

"This is for you… it's your main present."

He stared at her and then at his gift, mouth agape.

"Open it, my love," she instructed him softly, pushing it slightly towards him.

He looked back at her, and then put his hands around the narrower top end, feeling the shiny purple paper wrinkle beneath his hands.

"Bella…"

"Please, just open it," she pleaded.

Shaking his head in resignation, he began to peel away the paper, knowing what he was going to find beneath, yet still hardly able to believe what she'd done. As he stripped away the wrapping from the wide base, he swallowed hard, pausing to run his fingers over the cursive silver letters embossed on the black leather case.

He looked up at Bella, wide-eyed.

"A Gibson?"

She nodded, and, unable to contain her excitement any longer, reached down to flick open the silver clasp at the top, stooping to similarly undo the lower one.

With trembling hands, Edward opened the case and stared in awe at the six-string acoustic guitar which lay within. The front was made up of a highly polished wood, stained a dark amber round the edges, fading to a pale golden colour around the bridge. The pickboard was made of a glossy dark wood, inlaid with pale cream branches topped with filigree flowers, like feathery dandelion heads.

It was the most beautiful object he'd ever seen.

In the last four and a half years there had been much that had happened in Edward's life that could have broken him—_would have_ broken a weaker man. He had never wept for his mother, nor, despite his devastation over the deaths of little Katie and her mother, had he spilled any tears for them. He had been afraid many times, and had often despaired. He had lost everyone he had ever cared about, and had learned very quickly to harden himself against the slings and arrows of his particularly outrageous fortune.

Then Bella had come along and saved him in every conceivable way. She had given him everything—not just shelter, food and clothing, but, more importantly, hope and love, which he'd begun to believe he'd never again experience. These things she'd given freely, with no expectations or hidden agenda. And he'd taken them, embraced them, and loved her fiercely and endlessly in return.

But now, with this incredible and unbelievably thoughtful gift, he felt the floodgates finally open—all the pain and hurt, the fear and desperation he'd worked so hard to lock away in order to protect himself suddenly burst out of him, like a suppurating boil being lanced, and he dropped his head as the tears fell. His shoulders shook and he sobbed aloud, unable to hold back.

Suddenly, the guitar was taken out of his hand and Bella was beside him on the sofa, gathering him into her arms and rocking him gently as he finally wept—for Marcus, for Tanya and Katie, but, most of all, for his mother.

Over his shoulder, Bella watched as Charlotte helped Peter to his feet and, smiling sadly in understanding, they quietly left the room.

She held him for a long time as he clung to her, whispering words of comfort and shushing him when he tried to apologise.

Much later, Bella realised that, clearly exhausted, Edward had fallen asleep. Gently extricating herself from his arms, she eased him down onto the sofa, placing a cushion under his head. She took the soft, faux-fur throw from the back of the couch and draped it over him, then, leaving him with a feather-light kiss on his forehead, she headed out to the kitchen. There, she found Peter and Charlotte sitting at the table, drinking tea and chatting quietly. They had obviously cleaned up, and seemed relaxed and completely at ease.

"I'm sorry about that—"

Charlotte waived a dismissive hand at her. "Don't be silly, Bell, sometimes we all need a good cry."

Peter nodded, smiling ruefully at his wife's niece. "She's right, sweetheart… God knows, I've done my share of crying since this bloody arthritis crippled me. He's a good lad, and from what Lottie tells me, he's had a hard load to carry for such a young kid… and I'm guessing we don't know the half of it."

Bella walked over to the table and pulled out a chair, while Charlotte grabbed a clean cup from the Welsh dresser and poured her a cup of tea.

Sighing, Bella took a sip of her drink. "No, I haven't told you the details—it's not my story to tell, but suffice it to say that you wouldn't wish Edward's former life on your worst enemy. He's lost everyone who's ever mattered to him, and I have no idea how he's come through it so… _whole_, and is still such a good man. It boggles my mind how he survived."

Her aunt reached over, putting her hand on Bella's arm and squeezing gently.

"He really is a good man, Bell—and he loves you so much."

She smiled at the way her niece's eyes lit up at her words.

"Oh, Lottie, I love him too—with all my heart. I can't imagine my life without him—I don't _want_ to imagine it."

She looked at her surrogate parents, and knew they understood and, more importantly, that they supported her, as they always had.

They continued to chat amiably while they finished their tea, and then Bella got up to go check on Edward.

As she put her hand on the doorknob of the sitting room, she paused, her heart rate picking up when she heard soft guitar music. As quietly as she could, she opened the door and peeked in, her heart swelling at the sight before her.

Sitting up on the sofa, Edward was bent over the guitar, looking at his fingers as they moved along the fret board, strumming a really familiar tune. As she watched, unobserved, he started to sing in a soft baritone, and she realised it was an old Beatles song.

"_There are places I remember_

_All my life, though some have changed,_

_Some forever, not for better,_

_Some have gone and some remain,_

_All these places have their moments_

_With lovers and friends I still can recall,_

_Some are dead and some are living,_

_In my life I've loved them all."_

Bella's small gasp drew his attention and he stopped, looking round. Two bright spots of colour bloomed on his cheeks and he smiled sheepishly as Bella walked across the room and sat down beside him.

"That was… beautiful, Edward. I love that song. I'm surprised you're into the Beatles, though… bit before your time, isn't it?"

He lifted the guitar off his lap and placed it carefully at the end of the sofa, leaning it against the arm.

"Yeah, I'm not really a huge Beatles fan... I don't know much of their stuff, but that was one of Molly's favourite songs and she used to play it all the time. I used to sing it when I was busking, and I s'pose it's taken on a lot more meaning for me over the years."

He smiled sadly, and Bella reached her hand up to rub it up and down his arm.

"I can relate to that. Are you feeling better now?"

He nodded, dropping his eyes and picking at a loose thread on the seam of his jeans.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry about earlier. I can't believe I did that, and after you gave me such an amazing gift. You must think I'm such a twat."

Bella cupped his cheek, tipping his face up to look at her.

"I think no such thing. I get it, Edward, really I do. You've held it all in for so long. I'm not sure you've ever really let yourself grieve for the people you've lost. You've blocked it all with anger—at your mother, at Paul, and, most of all, at yourself. Maybe now, you can start to heal and let go of the hurt."

He looked at her, feeling his heart swell with all the love he felt inside him for the wonderful woman it had been his good fortune to meet.

"You're amazing," he told her, cupping her face with his hands and resting his forehead against hers.

"You're not so bad yourself," she responded with a smile.

They sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying being close, before Bella slowly pulled back.

"So, does that mean you like your gift?"

He chuckled, standing up and offering his hand to help her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her lightly.

"It's fantastic. It's too much, of course, but I love it… thank you."

"Good. Now, let's go find Charlotte and Peter, and make some goose sandwiches. I haven't eaten nearly enough today!"

Edward laughed and, taking Bella's hand, walked with her to the kitchen.


	22. Justice

**Chapter 22 ~ Justice**

_BANG! BANG!_

Bella jumped and then giggled as Edward's arms tightened around her. He grinned and kissed her again.

"Happy New Year, my beautiful Bella," he whispered, as another loud explosion rent the air, making her jump again. He laughed and turned her around, pulling her back against his chest. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, watching as a series of rockets exploded above them. The crowd which had gathered on the village green ooh'd and ahh'd as firework after firework painted a glittering and colourful display across the night sky.

It was cold, but wrapped in Edward's strong arms, she felt warm and safe. Whilst everyone else's eyes were glued to the show going on above them, Bella's were drawn to those of the inordinately handsome man looking down at her. When he dipped his head, she willingly turned hers to meet his lips in another scalding kiss.

"Hey, you two! The tickets for this gig cost ten quid each, so the least you could do is look at the bloody fireworks!"

Breaking off their kiss, they both laughed as Alice walked towards them with a stern look on her face. She was carrying a cardboard drinks holder, containing four half-pint plastic cups, whilst, behind her, Jasper had two hands wrapped around four hotdogs.

"Here you go, I got hot mulled wine to warm us all up."

Alice and Jasper divvied up the food and drinks, as the fireworks continued to explode above them.

"There you are!"

They all turned to see Carlisle and Esme approaching their vantage point next to the cricket pavillion, smiling widely. Carlisle set down a bulky insulated bag and pulled out foil-wrapped packages, together with a large thermos jug.

"I've got warm pasties and mulled wine," he announced, offering round the food, whilst Esme took the flask and topped up their drinks.

"So, who's made their New Year's resolutions?" asked Esme with a smile.

There was a mixed response to her enquiry—some rueful chuckles, some groans.

As the friends swapped light-hearted pledges for the coming year—most of which they knew they were unlikely to keep—Edward held back on talking about the one resolution that he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he would follow through with.

Not right away, perhaps, but soon… very soon.

**~o0o~  
**

Bella emerged from the bathroom, hurriedly slipping off her robe and climbing into bed. Going straight into Edward's waiting arms, she snuggled into his side, relishing his warmth, and sighing in deep contentment.

"Tonight was fun," she said, tilting her head up to look at him.

"Yeah, it was really great… but I'm glad to be back in the warm."

He dipped his head to capture her lips with his, loving the way she immediately opened up to him. For a while they simply kissed, allowing their passion to build slowly until Edward eased Bella onto her back. Instinctively, her legs parted and he moved with practiced ease between them, his cock lying hard and heavy against her stomach.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he slipped his hands in her hair, his thumbs stroking softly across her cheekbones as he stared down at her.

"I love you, Bella," he told her, his voice low, but imbued with emotion. "For the first time in my life, you've given me reasons to look forward to a new year. You're _everything_ to me."

Her eyes glassy with unshed tears, Bella stared up at the beautiful man above her. She could hardly believe how fortunate she was to have him in her life. In the preceding weeks, she had found herself pondering her decision to pick him up that bitterly cold and snowy night, and how she might easily have driven by, leaving him to his ghastly fate. Had she done so, she knew she would never have been able to put him out of her mind, and that she would have been plagued by guilt and remorse for the rest of her days.

That simple but momentous choice had changed her life forever, and she had no doubt that, even if he decided to leave her at some point in the future, she could never regret it. She would rather have a few short months or years with Edward, than to never have known what it was like to love, and be loved by him.

"I love you too, precious man… so very much. Please, make love to me."

She slid one hand into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his head down, kissing him deeply. And as their mouths and tongues moved together, Edward lifted his hips, one hand going down between them to guide himself into her.

As long as he lived, he couldn't imagine anything being so intensely pleasurable, so utterly incredible… so fucking _spiritual_ as being inside this wondrous woman's body. He moved slowly, his long, deep thrusts perfectly synchronised with the undulation of Bella's hips against his. He maintained a leisurely rhythm for as long as possible, wanting to make it last, but when she wrapped her legs around his waist and started forcing the pace, he could do nothing but comply with her need for more.

Putting his weight on his left arm, he slipped the other around her, placing his hand in the small of her back to press her harder against him. The movement caused him to change the angle of his thrusts, his pubic bone colliding over and over with Bella's swollen and sensitive clit. She cried out each time, until she was simply inhaling without exhaling. Finally, when she couldn't draw in another breath, her orgasm slammed through her, and Edward's name fell in breathless gasps from her mouth as she emptied her lungs. Her nails bit into the skin of his shoulders, and he arched his back, pushing into her one last time as Bella clenched convulsively around his cock. Holding himself still, he cried out as he exploded hard and deep inside her.

Edward collapsed on top of her, and the two lovers held on to one another tightly, both of them clearly reluctant to part—in fact, when he finally tried to move, concerned he might be crushing her, Bella tightened her grip.

"Please… not yet," she pleaded breathlessly, loving the feel of his weight pressing her into the mattress, and the heavy thump of his heart against hers.

"Love you, love you… God, I love you," he told her, laying hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses against her neck.

They clung to one another in the darkness until their heart rates slowed. Then, as carefully as possible, so as not to detach himself from Bella's body, Edward rolled onto his side, holding her close.

They lay in silence for a while, no words necessary.

He was still inside her when they fell asleep.

**~o0o~  
**

Bella was sitting at her drawing board when her mobile started vibrating beside her. Picking it up, she noted the number and swiped the screen.

"Bella Swan."

"Ms Swan, it's Tyler Crowley. How are you?"

"I'm well, thanks, Tyler—and I wish you'd call me Bella. Do you have something for me?"

"I do, Miss—Bella. I'm preparing my report on what's happening with Mr Black, which I'll be emailing to you later today, but I thought you might like to know upfront what I've found out."

Bella's mind immediately went back to the moment three weeks earlier when she had faced Jake across the courtroom in Cheltenham. The change in him had been dramatic, and he didn't look like the same man she'd seen a month before. He had lost weight, he had dark shadows under his eyes and his once-glossy black hair was lank and in urgent need of a trim. According to Crowley's report from the week before the trial, his employers had found out about the charges and suspended him pending the verdict, at which point, should he be found guilty, he would be summarily dismissed, regardless of the sentence. This was obviously the reason why, in the face of all the evidence against him, he had pleaded not guilty.

The trial hadn't lasted long. Both Bella and Edward had been called to give evidence, as had Alice and Jasper. Rose and Emmett had offered to travel from London, but the prosecuting team had felt it was unnecessary. Instead, they had called upon Lady Orfrey, a guest at the exhibition, who was a local Magistrate,* and was considered by the police to be a good, independent witness—in other words, not a close friend of Bella's.

Their judgement had proved to be sound.

In clipped, home-counties tones, she had described the whole unfortunate scene: from Jake's unwelcome appearance, his assault on Bella, and the attempt to remove him peaceably, to Edward's restraint, and, from her vantage point behind and slightly to the left of him, his attempt to avoid a fight, resulting in a drunken Jake stumbling and falling flat on his face. Upon cross-examination, she had been immovable on her evidence and witheringly contemptuous of both Jacob and his defence attorney, leaving the jury in absolutely no doubt that the defendant had not only been the aggressor, but had brought his own injuries upon himself.

After just two days, Jake had been found guilty of assault and affray. Edward and Bella had looked on with mixed emotions as he was sentenced to six months in prison, suspended for two years. He was ordered to pay two thousand pounds in compensation and four thousand pounds in court costs—the Judge apparently took a dim view of defendants who wasted taxpayers' money by claiming innocence in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

Much to Edward's dismay, Bella insisted on waiting outside the court until Jake was released. As he emerged, Bella asked Edward to stay put while she approached her ex-boyfriend.

"Jake?"

He looked round, his eyes widening for a moment, before a look of dull resignation clouded his face.

"What do you want, Bella? Are you here to gloat?"

"Oh, Jake, of course not." She reached out a hand, placing it gently on his upper arm. "I just wanted to say how sorry I am that things turned out this way. Are you going to be okay?"

He cocked his head to one side, looking at her askance. An odd expression flashed across his face, too fleeting for her to identify, but any hope she had that he felt remorse for his behaviour was swiftly quashed.

"What is this, Bella? I'm not interested in the whole 'Saint Joan' thing," he mocked her, adding the parentheses by gesturing with his fingers in the air. "You've ruined my fucking life, I hope you know that! I'm going to lose my job, and by the time I pay legal fees, court costs and fucking _compensation, _I'm going to be wiped out financially. I can't sell the house, because it's worth less than my fucking mortgage—which I won't be able to afford to pay next month. So, I'm going to be homeless, unless I can find another job... which, thanks to you, is going to be nigh on impossible with this fucking conviction.

"I can't even leave the country until my two years' suspended sentence expires, and having a criminal record means I won't be able to get a visa to work in America, Australia or Hong Kong. So thanks for your phony fucking concern, but you can shove it, you sanctimonious bitch!"

Bella dropped her hand and stepped back as if he'd hit her. The look of pure hatred on his face made her realise that there could be no reconciliation or forgiveness, and she took another step away from him, breathing a sigh of relief when she felt Edward's hands on her shoulders.

"Are you okay, love?" he asked, his glare fixed on Jake.

"I'm f-fine… I made a mistake…" she responded, turning to face him. "Let's go—"

"Yeah, why don't you and your toy-boy just run back to the land of cowshit and inbreds. But make the most of your little fuck-buddy while you can, Bella, 'cause he's not gonna hang around long once you turn into Norma Desmond and he's leeched you dry."

Bella looked up at Edward as she felt his fingers flex, and before she knew what was happening, he'd spun her round behind him and taken a step towards Jake. She grabbed his arm, but her loathsome ex-boyfriend was already retreating, fear blossoming in his eyes. In his haste, he stumbled and almost fell, arms flailing as he fought to save himself from the humiliation of landing on his backside in the street.

"Yeah, run away, you worthless piece of shit! Not so fucking brave when you're not hitting women, are you? You make me sick! You brought this all on yourself, and you deserve everything that's coming to you! If I ever see you within five miles of Bella, I swear I'll make you sorry, you fucking coward!."

"Edward, please, he's not worth it!" Bella cried out, pulling on his arm.

He glanced back at her, the fire in his eyes fading quickly.

"You're right, he's not," he responded quietly, before turning to refocus on Jake—but he was already walking quickly away down the street.

They watched him leave, both hoping it was the last time they would ever see him.

Edward turned away from his retreating figure, wrapping his arms around Bella and kissing her softly on the top of her head.

"He's gone, love, forget about him. Come on, let's grab some lunch before we head home."

He pulled away slightly, looking down at her with a smile. Meeting his gaze, Bella could only marvel, yet again, at the warmth and love she saw in his sparkling emerald eyes and, just like that, all thoughts of Jake were consigned to the dustbin.

"I'd rather go straight home, my love," she told him, feeling her desire building.

With a slow grin, Edward released Bella, and instead took her by the hand, quickly leading her down the street towards the car park where her car awaited them.

**~o0o~  
**

"… so I thought I'd give you a call."

Bella was brought back to the present, realising that Crowley was speaking to her.

"I'm sorry, Tyler, what was that?"

"I said that Black has rented out his house and moved to Edinburgh. It seems he managed to persuade his employers to keep him on. All reports indicate that he's good at his job, and he had a sympathetic line manager, but the deal meant he had to accept a demotion, a big drop in salary, and relocation to their Scottish operation. It's the best deal he could possibly have hoped for, as he'd never get another job in The City* without lying about his conviction—and it's a much too incestuous world to get away with that, especially as it was quite a high-profile case. He'll be starting pretty much at the bottom, and he'll barely earn a quarter of his previous salary, but I imagine he's happy just to have a job."

Bella snorted, she couldn't help it. "I doubt he'll be happy about it, Tyler. Jake was always all about the high-rolling lifestyle—the flashy car, the luxury Docklands bachelor pad and the big city nightlife. Still, it's better than he deserves after what he did…"

"You're right, but at least it means he's as far away as possible, given the circumstances. It means you won't have to worry about bumping into him when you're in London."

She sighed, running her hand through her hair in a gesture she'd unconsciously picked up from Edward.

"Yeah, I must admit, that's a big relief. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem. As I mentioned, I'll email my full report to you later today. Now, about the other matter you asked me to look into."

Bella was suddenly alert, all thoughts of Jake fading quickly as Tyler started telling her the results of the secondary investigation she'd asked him to undertake. She listened carefully, her eyes widening in surprise at one point, as she speculated on the impact his news would have.

When he'd finished speaking, Bella was initially silent while she mulled over what he'd said.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Uh, yeah… sorry, Tyler. Um, so you'll email me the details?"

"Of course. I'll send my report as soon as I've emailed my notes on Black. If it's okay with you, I'd like to invoice you for the work to date and, then, if you need any further follow-up, I can bill you for that separately."

"That's fine, yes. You've done a great job, Tyler, I'm grateful."

"My pleasure, Bella. Just call me if there's anything else you need."

They said their goodbyes, and she made her way slowly downstairs, just in time to hear a car pull into the drive. Walking through to the dining room window, she was just in time to see Edward climb out of a car which was liveried as a driving school vehicle.

She turned when she heard his key in the door, and smiled as he walked into the house.

"Hey, how was the lesson?"

He looked up, running his hands through his riotous shock of copper hair. It was getting a little long, but she rather liked that it gave her something to grab hold of, and she couldn't deny that the whole 'bed-head' thing he had going on was hot as hell. He'd never really looked like a teenager, but now he definitely looked like a man—a strong, mature, very sexy man.

As his eyes met hers, the slow smile which never failed to disarm her spread across his face, and she instinctively moved towards him and into his arms.

He kissed her thoroughly, holding her close. Drawing apart at last, he put his arm round her shoulders and guided her into the kitchen, where he let her go in order to retrieve a cold drink from the fridge.

"So, the lesson…?" Bella asked again, as she grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured herself a drink of water from the tap. As had become their habit, they sat down at the table across from one another to catch up on one another's day.

"Yeah, it was good. Rick says that now I've passed the theory test, I'll probably be ready for the road test in four or five weeks."

"That's great, love. I must admit, I'll be glad when you can drive to and from work instead of riding your bike."

"Well, I'll be on the bike for a while, until I can save up for a car. Anyway, it keeps me fit—which is important if I want to keep you satisfied."

He gave her a roguish smirk, making her roll her eyes, even as the blush crept into her cheeks. He loved that he could still do that to her.

"Anyway, how was your day?" he asked, taking another swig of his beer.

"It was good. I got a lot done on the latest 'Ashkran' drawings. I think I should be able to finish them this week… Um, I had a call today from Tyler Crowley. He wanted to tell me about Jake."

Edward paused with his drink halfway to his lips. "Oh yeah, what's that scrotebag been up to now?"

Bella related what Tyler had said, watching for his reaction.

He drained his can of Coke and put it firmly down on the table with a scowl.

"Jesus, so he's got away with it! Talk about falling in a barrel of shit and come up smelling of roses." He shook his head in disgust.

"Well, yeah, but at least he's left London, and he's not likely to show his face around here again. And, for Jake, being exiled to Scotland—even Edinburgh—where he has to start again as a junior trader earning, at most, thirty grand a year, is a real punishment. Jake enjoys the good life, and I'm guessing that's not going to be so easy anymore. Tyler said he had to let the leasing company take back his Maserati, which would have broken his heart—he loved that car. Plus, the monthly rent he's getting on his house is less than his mortgage, so he's got to find the difference, on top of renting a place in Edinburgh, which means he's going to struggle to keep up. So, the upshot is that he's going to suffer in all the ways that matter to him."

Edward curled his lip in annoyance.

"He's got more than I ever had before I met you. I would have liked to see him trying to survive on the streets—he wouldn't have lasted two fucking days!"

Bella reached across the table, covering his hand with hers.

"Look, it's not perfect, but he's gone—that's all I care about. If he was reduced to living on benefits in London, he might still be looking to get revenge, despite the restraining order. This way, we can put him out of our minds, which suits me—I don't want to waste another minute of our life together thinking about him."

He nodded, turning his hand to link his fingers with hers.

"You're right, let's forget about that prick. Now, I need to shower and get ready for work."

He stood, walked round the table and kissed Bella, before heading upstairs to change.

Bella watched him go with a sigh. She needed to talk to him about Tyler's second report, but now wasn't the time. She picked up the empty Coke can and put it in the recycle bin, then looked in the fridge for something to eat for lunch.

Twenty minutes later, Edward reappeared, and came over to her at the island where she was making a sandwich.

"Do you want something to eat?" she asked.

"No, I better get going—I'll grab something at the restaurant. I don't think we'll be busy tonight, so I should be home by ten-thirty."

He leaned in to kiss her, and then, with a quick grin, turned and left.

**~o0o~  
**

Bella was brought awake by soft kisses across her shoulder and neck, as she lay dozing on the sofa. Smiling she turned towards the owner of the lips that gave her so much pleasure.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Edward greeted her softly, dropping a light kiss on her mouth.

"Ummm… hey, you," she responded, reaching her hand out to cup his cheek. "Can I get you a drink?"

He held up the bottle of beer he'd brought from the kitchen. "I'm good. Scoot up."

She straightened to allow him to sit, then immediately wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest, breathing in his scent. In turn, he put his arm round her shoulders, and then took a long swig of beer.

"Good night?" she asked.

"Yeah, not bad. How about you?"

She was forced to relinquish her hold on him a little as he leaned forward to put his drink down, and then she felt him tense up.

"What's this?" he asked, and she pulled back to see that he had picked up the sheets of paper she'd left on the coffee table. Leaning forward, she rubbed a hand up and down his back, and gently extracted the document from his fingers.

Swivelling round to face her, Edward ran a hand through his hair, a frown darkening his features.

"Bella—what did you do?"

She sighed, glancing down at the email she'd printed off earlier, and then back up to meet Edward's anguished gaze.

"Okay, please don't freak out—"

"I'm trying hard not to, but seeing Paul's name at the top of that email is kind of doing my head in."

"I know, I know, but please try and keep an open mind. When I talked to Tyler about Jake, I thought it would be worth asking him just to see what he could find out about why Paul might have been trying to find you after all these years."

"And?"

She turned a little, propping her knee on the sofa, so that she was facing him.

"Okay, so the first thing you need to know is that, as far as Paul is concerned, it's good news, because you can finally put him out of your mind."

He arched an eyebrow at her, but remained silent, despite the anxiety that was still clear in his eyes.

Bella took a deep breath and reached out a hand to clasp his where it rested on his thigh.

"He's in prison, Edward."

She paused, watching as his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"Wh-what?" he rasped, clearly stunned.

"It must have happened just after you saw him. Apparently, he was in a pub in the King's Cross area, which I'm guessing was near where you last saw him. According to the police report, he was drunk and got into a fight with some local hard-case. He deliberately broke his pint glass and stabbed it into the other guy's neck, severing his carotid artery. He bled to death before the ambulance even arrived… Paul was arrested for murder. He'll get life, Edward. Maybe he didn't get caught for killing your mum, but he'll pay for it, one way or another."

She squeezed his hand, dropping the email onto the sofa cushion in order to reach up to caress his cheek.

Edward just stared at her, as he struggled to process what she'd just told him. He glanced down at where she gripped his hand, and then back up to meet her eyes.

"He's… he's really in prison?"

She nodded in confirmation, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers as she continued to stroke her thumb across his cheek.

They remained like that for a moment, neither one speaking as Bella let him absorb the news. Time seemed to stand still, the silence broken only by the soft tick of the clock on the shelf, and the crackle of the fire.

After what seemed like an eternity, Edward drew back, a frown creasing his handsome features.

"Did they find out why he was looking for me?"

Bella sighed, looking back down at the papers, then back to Edward.

"Yeah, they did. The police found a solicitor's letter on him after he was arrested."

She paused, her eyes filling with sadness and compassion.

"Edward… God, there's no easy way to say this. It was about Molly… she… I'm so sorry, Edward, but she died."

Again, his eyes went wide, filling with tears.

"No…" he whispered, that one simple word filled with agony, as his tears finally fell, tracking silently and unheeded down his face.

Then he was in her arms, as she wrapped him in all the comfort and love she had to offer, his choking sobs breaking her heart.

It was so unfair. Everyone he'd ever loved… lost forever. His loss was all the more poignant, because she knew he'd been thinking for a while about trying to re-establish contact with his surrogate grandmother—one of the few people from his past who had truly cared about him.

She held him for a long time, letting his tears soak into her sweater, wishing with all her heart that she could take away his pain. She rubbed her hands soothingly up and down his back, rocking him gently as he wept.

At last, he calmed, although he continued to cling desperately to Bella, as if he feared that she, too, would be ripped away from him, should he loosen his grip.

Finally, he seemed to regain control, and slowly pulled away. He tried to wipe away the tears and snot with his hands, and Bella let go of him to reach across to pluck a couple of tissues from the box that sat on the coffee table.

He took them from her, wiping his face and blowing his nose. When he'd gathered himself, and felt capable of speaking without breaking down again, he looked at Bella.

"When… how?" he asked softly.

"Um, sometime in September, I think. She had cancer, apparently. Tyler didn't have the details."

"But… I don't understand, why was a solicitor writing to Paul to tell him about Molly? He never even knew her."

Bella shuffled through the papers beside her, extracting one sheet.

"Tyler managed to get a copy of the letter… it's addressed to you."

She held it out to him, but he simply stared at it, before shaking his head.

"Just tell me," he murmured, dabbing again at his eyes with the balled-up tissue.

She nodded, and then glanced down at the typewritten page.

"It seems Paul never moved out of the house where you lived with your mum, so when this letter turned up for you, he opened it, and then decided to try and find you. We may never know whether he was acting out of some kind of latent altruism, or whether he was hoping to gain something, but it seems Molly never forgot you… that she never stopped loving you."

She paused, taking a deep breath in order to control her own emotions. Edward needed her to be strong for him right now, and she was determined not to let him down.

"Anyway, she apparently included a bequest in her Will. Tyler did some digging, and she had a fairly substantial estate—she was the sole beneficiary of Marcus' estate, which included the value of his business, plus a substantial life insurance settlement, and she left you ten thousand pounds."

Edward, who had been staring at his hands, looked up sharply, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline.

"_What?"_

He grabbed the letter from Bella's hands, scanning it quickly.

"I can't believe this… wait a minute, it says here that they enclosed a letter from her addressed to me."

He looked back at Bella and then to the papers lying on the sofa cushion.

"I'm sorry, love, but it's not here. Tyler says it wasn't with the solicitor's note when they found it, and when he sent someone to search the house, there was no sign of it. He thinks Paul probably threw it away, which would point to the fact that he was merely intent on finding you so he could get his hands on some or all of the money."

Again, she ached for him when she saw his face crumple in defeat.

"Hey… it probably just confirmed that she was leaving you the money because she loved you—and you already know that."

He nodded slowly, before turning tear-filled eyes to her.

"Yeah, but it would have been nice to read the words. The money… it's just fucking money, Bella, and I'd give it up in a heartbeat if it meant I would still have a chance to see her again."

He sniffed, glancing back down at the letter in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he looked again at Bella.

"So, what happens now?"

"Well, Tyler has contacted the solicitor, passing on your new address, and he says they'll be writing to you again."

"Do you think they'll give me Molly's address? I'd like to maybe contact her daughter—I mean, she's probably pissed off that her mother left such a huge amount of money to some random bloke she's never met, but… well, I'd like to talk to her, if she'd be willing. At least tell her how sorry I am…"

He swallowed, fighting back more tears, and stood up.

Bella got up, and put her hand on his arm.

"Hey, are you all right?"

He looked down at her, picking up her free hand and playing with her fingers.

"Yeah… I think I'll just go for a walk… clear my head."

She nodded. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No… I think I'd like to be on my own for a bit, you know?"

"Of course." She glanced at the clock, which showed that it was almost midnight, but she said nothing.

He leaned towards her, kissing her softly on the forehead. "I promise I won't be long."

"Take all the time you need—I'll be right here when you get back. I love you, Edward."

He gathered her in his arms, burying his nose in her hair.

"I love you so much, Bella," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

Then he released her and walked out of the room. Moments later, she heard the front door open and close quietly, and she was alone.

**~o0o~  
**

Over the ensuing days, Edward remained quiet and introspective. When they made love, Bella was conscious of a kind of desperate need in him that hadn't been present since they had first got together. Sometimes, he would collapse on top of her and weep uncontrollably, and all she could do was hold him and offer what comfort she could.

About a week after she had given him the news about Molly, a letter arrived for Edward from her solicitor, requesting that he provide proof of his identify. Initially, he was adamant that he didn't want to respond, that he didn't want money he wasn't entitled to.

Bella sat him down, and firmly explained to him all the reasons why he should accept Molly's bequest. She told him that it was what Molly wanted, that she wouldn't have gone to the trouble of putting him in her Will if she hadn't cared deeply about him; that it was her way of reaching out to help him. She said it wasn't just from Molly, but from Marcus as well, that they had both loved him, and he would be throwing their love back in their faces if he didn't accept it. Once he had the money, he could do what he liked with it—donate it to charity in their names, if he felt that strongly about it, but rejecting it out of hand was the same as rejecting them.

When, at last, she was able to persuade him that he should and must reply to the solicitor, he started to panic that he had no idea how to provide them with the information they wanted.

Again, Bella took charge. She went on line and ordered a copy of his birth certificate, and then, when it arrived, she arranged for him to visit a notary and get it legalised, along with a photocopy of his driving licence. Typing up a covering letter, she got him to sign it, and couriered the whole package to the lawyers.

A week later, another letter arrived, enclosing a cheque for ten thousand pounds.

For three days, Edward ignored it, refusing to even pay it into his bank account. Bella didn't press him, or make any moves to persuade him to cash the cheque, wanting him to reach a decision on his own.

On the fourth day, a Thursday, he came home from work and sat next to Bella on the couch. He perched on the edge, staring down at his feet, saying nothing for several minutes. Bella waited, knowing that he would say whatever he had to say in his own time.

"I want to go to Manchester—I want to visit Molly's grave, and meet her daughter."

He finally looked round to gauge her reaction.

"Okay. That sounds like a really great idea. When were you thinking of going?"

"Um, well, I already asked Carlisle for a few days off. I thought I'd go tomorrow—"

"_Tomorrow?"_

"Yeah, Esme checked for me, and I can get a bus from Cirencester to Bristol at seven in the morning, which should get me there in time to catch the 11:09 to Manchester Piccadilly. I just wondered if you could give me a lift into Cirencester?"

Bella stared at him, capturing her lower lip with her teeth, and then shook her head.

"No."

"No? You won't give me a lift?" he asked, incredulously.

She sighed. "I will give you a lift, but not to Cirencester. Edward, please don't shut me out."

"I'm not—"

"You are. You've been distant and practically monosyllabic ever since we found out about Molly. I've tried to let you figure things out on your own—I know you're not used to having someone to rely on, but I can't believe you would go all that way without me."

"I… I didn't want to ask—"

Bella threw her hands in the air. "Oh, for God's sake, Edward—we're a partnership now! I love you, and there's no way I'd let you go on your own. How would you have felt if I'd told you I didn't want you with me at Jake's trial? I needed you there, and now it's my turn to be there for you. We'll drive up tomorrow—together."

He reached across the gap between them, cupping her face and stroking his thumb gently over her cheekbone.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

She smiled, leaning into his hand and covering it with her own.

"If it's even half as much as I love you, then, yes, I've got a pretty good idea."

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

Magistrate – Justice of the Peace  
The City – City of London, which refers to the square mile of London delineating the old financial district, but which now also includes the new financial hub at Canary Wharf in Docklands, East London.


	23. Closure

**Chapter 23 ~ Closure**

A cold wind whipped around the sprawling cemetery, as Edward stood in front of a granite headstone. Next to him, Bella's hand was gripped tightly in his own, whilst his gaze was fixed on the gold lettered inscription on the stone:

_**Mary 'Molly' Carpenter**__  
18__th__ May 1946 – 9__th__ September 2012  
Beloved mother and grandmother  
To live in the hearts of others is not to die_

The mounded earth of the grave had not yet completely settled, but fresh daffodils were arranged in the pot set into the left hand side of the base, waving merrily in the breeze.

"Fuck, she was only sixty-six. How is that possible? That means she was only in her fifties when I knew her. God Almighty, Bella, she was too fucking young."

Edward's voice cracked, and he bit back a sob, even as a fat tear slid down his cheek. He wiped it angrily away, before letting go of Bella's hand and walking around the grave to stand beside the glossy black stone. Crouching down, he unwrapped the simple posy of spring flowers he was holding and started pushing them into the holes of the cover on the second pot. It had been raining the day before when they arrived in Manchester, and it was already full of water, so he hoped they would last for a few days. When he'd finished, he stood up, crumpling the plastic wrapping in his hands. He looked around for a bin, only to find Bella beside him, holding out her hand to take it.

"I'll give you a minute," she told him softly, and walked away to find somewhere to deposit the rubbish.

Edward placed his hand on top of the cold granite, rubbing it distractedly.

"I'm sorry I didn't try to find you earlier, Molly. I thought I had time…"

He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking up at the overcast sky, which hung like a grey shroud over the landscape. Sniffing, he gazed back down at the grave. He knew it was futile to regret not having looked for her, as she'd been dead and buried before he even had the means to start searching.

"Thanks for the money… I can't believe you did that. I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do with it, but please believe that I'm grateful. I just wish I didn't have to think about it… that you were still here. I used to fantasise about finding you… about knocking on your door, and seeing that big, beautiful smile. You'd cook me a big roast dinner, followed by bread and butter pudding and custard… oh, God, why did you have to die so soon?"

He didn't try to stop the tears now, letting them run down his face unhindered as the wind chilled his skin. It occurred to him in that moment that, despite the complete reversal of fortune he had experienced, he had cried more in the last three months than in the whole of his life prior to this point.

He turned his head to see Bella walking slowly back towards him.

"That's my girl, Molly. Her name's Bella, and she saved my life. I love her so much, and I just know you would have loved her too. She's good, like you, and I'm so lucky to have her in my life."

He crouched down again to straighten one of the flowers, pushing it further into the pot to stop it from being blown away.

"I miss you, Molly, but I think you'd be proud of me now—I'm a chef in a really good restaurant, and that's all thanks to you and Marcus. I hope you're together now. I love you both."

He started to get up, but then seemed to think of something else.

"Hey, if you see my mum, tell her I'm sorry, and that I love her. I don't know where she is, or even if she was buried or cremated, but maybe you could find her and tell her. I don't know if I'll ever be back, but I'll never forget you, Molly… or Marcus. Goodbye."

He stood and looked over to where Bella waited a few yards away, giving him space. With one last glance down at the grave, he patted the headstone and then walked away, straight into his girl's waiting arms… straight into his home.

**~o0o~**

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Bella turned side-on to look across at Edward where he sat in the passenger seat of the car, staring out the window. They were parked on a wide, tree-lined avenue, bordered on either side by 1930s semi-detached houses. Every house seemed to boast a well-kept front garden and a mid-range, fairly new executive saloon parked in the drive. The whole road screamed middle-class suburbia and, despite the recent major uplift in his circumstances and status, it made Edward feel a little uncomfortable.

As a homeless teenager, it was his experience that the British middle-classes were the least generous and the most contemptuous when it came to those who lived on the very margins of society. Bella, of course, was different. She might live in that world now, but she came from working-class stock and was proud of it. Her generosity knew no bounds, and he would never lump her in with the kind of city commuters who looked down their noses at the homeless.

"Edward?"

He felt her hand on his thigh, and turned to look at her.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to, you know."

He shook his head, trying to clear it of the unhelpful thoughts which were currently occupying him.

"No, it's fine, I want to. Besides, Maggie's expecting us."

The day before, after leaving the cemetery and returning to their hotel room, Edward had finally used the number which had been given to him by Molly's solicitor. Her daughter, Maggie, had been waiting for him to call and, much to his surprise, had not only been happy to talk to him, but had invited them both to visit her at home. The call had been short, giving Edward little insight into Maggie's opinion of the bequest, but she had seemed friendly enough. However, the cheque was in his wallet, and he hoped that he could avoid any unpleasantness by the simple expedient of offering to tear it up.

Sighing, he glanced again at the house they had come to visit, seeing the curtains twitch in the downstairs window.

"Come on, let's get it over with," he said, pushing open his door and climbing out of the car. He waited for Bella to join him, linking his fingers with hers when she offered him her hand. Together, they walked across the grass verge and up the short drive to the front door of the house they'd been looking at for the last twenty minutes.

As they approached, the door was flung open, and a curvy, middle-aged redhead stood on the threshold, a bright smile on her face.

"Oh, thank goodness… I thought you weren't going to come in," she greeted, holding her hand out. "I'm Maggie Meade, and you must be Edward."

Slowly, Edward reached out and took the proffered hand, a look of bemused astonishment on his face.

"Uh, yeah, I am… Christ, you look just like Molly!" he blurted, unable to stop himself.

Her smile faded a little, turning wistful. "Yeah, I get that a lot—Mini-Molly, my dad used to call me."

She brought her other hand up to enclose his, giving it a squeeze before letting go, and then turned to look at Bella, where she stood silently watching their interaction.

"And this must be your girlfriend...?"

Suddenly galvanised, Edward let go of Bella's hand and put his arm round her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, this is Bella Swan," he said, finally able to give the woman a genuine smile.

"It's lovely to meet you both," she responded, shaking Bella's hand warmly, and then standing back. "Please, come in out of the cold."

Once inside, she took their coats and then guided them to a sitting room at the back of the house. There, they were introduced to Maggie's husband, Alistair, a tall, dark-haired man, with an equally friendly and welcoming demeanour. The house was filled with the warm smell of roasting meat, which reminded him of the fantasy he'd verbalised at Molly's graveside, and Edward could feel his anxiety starting to bleed away. He smiled up at Maggie as she returned from the kitchen with a tray of tea and biscuits.

Sitting down next to her husband, she looked across at the couple on the opposite sofa.

"I'm so glad you could come today—I always hoped I'd meet you one day… it's just such a shame that Mum isn't around to see you."

Maggie dropped her gaze and took a sip of her tea, and Alistair reached across and put his arm round her shoulders.

"Come on now, love, don't take on so, you'll have the lad crying into his tea."

She looked up, giving him a little smile, and then turned again to Edward.

"My, but Mum was right. She always said you'd turn into a stunner… 'mark my words' she used to say, 'the next time I see that boy he'll probably be on the telly or a magazine cover'. She used to go on and on about how she'd never seen such a beautiful child, and that you'd grow up to break all the girls' hearts."

Edward blushed to his roots, while Bella nudged him with her shoulder, chuckling softly.

"Did… did she really talk about me?" he asked tentatively.

"Oh, my goodness me, yes. She felt so bad for leaving you and your mum when my brother died, but she just couldn't cope with staying in the house after that… a parent should never have to bury their child…"

They were all silent for a moment, but then Maggie started talking again.

"Mum did write to your mother, and to you, but the letters came back marked undeliverable."

"She wrote to us? Christ, I didn't know that." Edward swept a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "We moved to a smaller place after Marcus died—Mum couldn't afford the rent on our old place, and I guess she didn't bother to sort out getting our post redirected."

"I understand that your mother died in an accident at home. That must have been awful for you, Edward. I suppose you must have been taken into care?"

He sighed and looked at Bella, who reached across to take his hand and give it a squeeze. Turning back to Maggie, he offered her a small smile.

"Yeah, it was pretty terrible, but you just have to make the best of things, don't you?" he responded, noncommittally.

"That's true, Edward, although I suspect it wasn't quite as straight forward as you make out. But, enough of all that, I can see you're not entirely comfortable talking about it. So, what about now? You look like you're doing well—are you still living in London?"

"Uh, no, I left last year. Bella and I live in the Cotswolds. I'm a sous chef at a restaurant there, working for the former Head Chef of the London Savoy."

"Gosh, that sounds very grand indeed! I remember Mum saying you had a flair for cooking… she said she used to love it when you came round, wanting to bake cakes with her… always asking questions, she said."

She smiled at him, and he chuckled ruefully, relieved at the change of subject.

"Yeah, I was probably a really annoying little snot, but she was always so patient with me—her _and_ Marcus."

He sat forward, resting his forearms on his thighs and gazing intently at Maggie.

"They were the best part of my childhood, Maggie, I want you to know that. If it hadn't been for them… well, I don't know what would have become of me. They taught me how to be a decent person, despite what came after, and they gave me a skill which has led to an amazing career."

"Oh, Edward, thank you, that means a lot to me. I know they would both be so proud of you if they were here today."

Her voice trembling, she got up and walked over to a dresser at the side of the room, pulling a tissue out of the box that sat there.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you—"

"Oh, shush, you didn't upset me, not at all," she said, turning and waving her hand dismissively. "So, did you get a chance to visit the cemetery?"

"Yeah, we went yesterday. It's… well, it's a nice spot."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?"

"Look, Maggie, I wanted to talk to you about the money—"

"Oh, have you not received the cheque yet?"

"Uh, no—I mean, yes, I got the cheque last weekend. It's just… _shit…" _He dry-washed his face with both hands, and Bella leaned forward slightly, gently rubbing his back.

Maggie frowned, suddenly wondering if this handsome young man was quite as good as he had at first seemed. After all, despite her mother's affection, he _had _been a child the last time she'd seen him. Could he be here to try and wrangle more money from her? Maybe she'd been wrong to welcome him into her house. She started to speak, but Edward cut her off.

"The fact is, Maggie, I'm hugely grateful to Molly for remembering me, and being so generous, but I'm not sure I can accept this… it's a huge amount of money to take away from you—her _real _family."

He stood up and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Opening it, he extracted the cheque and held it out to her.

"Bella says I should keep it, that it's what Molly wanted, but it doesn't feel right to me."

Maggie simply stared at the slip of paper in his hand, and then up at his face. Clearly, she had been so wrong to doubt Edward, and she mentally chastised herself for having so little faith in both him, and in her mother's instincts.

Taking the cheque from him, she folded it twice, took hold of his right hand, and pressed the small rectangle of paper into his palm, before wrapping his fingers round it.

"This is yours, Edward. Bella's right, it's what Molly wanted. She's given us so much—and I'm not just talking about money, although there was plenty of that for all of us. But, her one big regret was losing touch with you, and this was her way of trying to make it right. Take the money, Edward, and use it for whatever you want—you'll be honouring her memory if you spend it on something you really need or want."

She enclosed his hand with both of hers and smiled up at him.

And, in that moment, Edward felt the weight of his guilt about the money fall away, to be replaced with a deep affection for this woman who reminded him so much of the kind and generous surrogate grandmother who'd given him so much.

"Now then, you'll stay for lunch, won't you? Our boy, Colin, is coming over with a friend. Maybe you can give him some tips, Edward, 'cause he can't cook to save his life. I do love him, but that lad could burn water," she chuckled.

"Um, well, if you're sure—"

"Of course I'm sure. And I hope this won't be the only time we see you. It would mean so much to Mum—and to me—if we could keep in touch. You're… well, you're like family, aren't you? And maybe we'll get a chance to come and eat in that fancy restaurant of yours one day."

"Oh, Maggie, that would be brilliant. You could come for a visit and stay with us…" He looked at Bella for confirmation.

She smiled, and turned to Maggie. "Absolutely. We'd love it if you could come visit. It's a beautiful part of the world, and you just have to say the word. We'll give you our address and phone numbers before we leave."

"Thank you, that would be wonderful. There you go, Al, that's our next weekend away sorted."

Edward smiled across at his hosts. Sad as he was at Molly's passing, it seemed that he had, nevertheless, gained a new family—an inheritance which far exceeded the cheque in his pocket.

**~o0o~**

Bella walked through the house, the soft breeze from the open windows gently caressing her skin as she followed the sound of a lawnmower. In her hand, she clutched several sheets of printer paper, a pensive expression shadowing her features. When she reached the kitchen, she paused to grab a can of lager and a bottle of water from the fridge, before heading out the back door.

It was early April, and the fruit trees in the garden were laden with white and pink blossoms. The garden was bathed in warm sunshine, as the south of England basked in an unseasonable heat wave, with temperatures peaking in the mid-20s*. Turning her face up to the sky, Bella let herself absorb the heat for a moment, before focussing on Edward as he guided the ride-on mower around the wide expanse of the garden—it was their latest purchase, and he was like a kid with the best new toy ever. As he swung around the large willow tree near the boundary, headed back in her direction, she raised the can of lager to attract his attention, and then sat down at the wooden table set back on a small gravelled area outside the back door.

Bella watched him as he continued to cut the grass, whilst making his way towards her.

It was a sight worth taking the time to enjoy.

Edward was stripped to the waist, wearing only a pair of cut-off denim shorts, and the months of good living had worked wonders for his physique. He didn't work out much—just with barbells at home—but he still rode his bike regularly, and the frenetic pace of his job, allied to the work he did around the house, meant that his musculature was well-defined without being overly ripped. The once unhealthy pallor of his skin was now lightly sun-kissed, just from the last few days of sunshine, and his glorious mane of copper hair seemed to sparkle and glint in the light.

Bella felt the familiar tingling in her stomach as he came to a stop in front of her, climbing off the little tractor, a wide grin on his handsome face. She wondered if she would ever stop being excited by the mere presence of this beautiful man.

She lifted the can, popped the ring-pull and handed it to him. He took it from her, swooping down to kiss her quickly on the mouth, before straightening up and taking a long chug of his beer.

"Thanks, I needed that," he told her appreciatively, sitting down beside Bella on the wooden loveseat. He turned his head to take in what she was wearing. She always looked gorgeous to him, whether dressed to the nines, or in simple jeans and a t-shirt. However, right now she looked particularly edible in a short halter-neck top which displayed her cleavage to perfection, as well as a wide strip of pale, flat stomach above the tiny little cotton shorts she was wearing. His eyes drifted down to her long, shapely legs, letting himself remember how they'd been wrapped tightly around him as he thrust languorously into her earlier that morning.

With difficulty, he tore his eyes away from his perusal, as she leaned forward to put her drink down and picked up two sheets of paper from the table.

"What's that?" he asked.

Bella swivelled slightly, resting a knee on the bench so she was facing him.

"It's an email from Tyler… it's about Paul," she responded quietly.

A frown immediately clouded Edward's face. He put his beer on the table and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs and staring at his hands where they were clasped in front of him.

He had made the decision not to attend the trial, much to Bella's relief, but had agreed to let Tyler keep them informed.

"What does it say?" he asked, his voice flat and inflectionless.

Bella sighed and glanced again at the printed sheets.

"He got life, Edward, as predicted. It's done… you can put him out of your mind for good."

She reached across and rubbed his naked back, the skin there warmed by the sun. She ran her fingers over the tattoo at the base of his neck, feeling his pain, and longing to take it away.

"Did…?" He sighed and sat up, taking Bella's hand in his as she dropped it to her side. He rubbed her palm with his thumb, studying it fixedly for a moment. She let him find his words in his own time, knowing he would eventually ask whatever it was that troubled him.

At last, he raised his eyes to hers, giving her a small, wistful smile.

"Did Tyler find out where… what happened to Mum?"

"Yes, he managed to get Paul to agree to a visit while he was on remand. He said that he couldn't pay for a funeral, so the Council arranged for her to be cremated. Tyler contacted someone in the Crematorium Administrative Services Department and, apparently, they keep the ashes for up to five years; then, if they remain unclaimed, they dispose of them. It seems Beth's ashes are still in storage and he's given me the address if you want to collect them."

He nodded slowly but said nothing, his eyes dropping again to her hand, which remained in his.

"You don't have to decide now, Edward—"

He looked up, and she could see immediately that he'd made the decision.

"It's okay, babe, I know what I wanna do. I'm gonna finish cutting the grass now, and maybe we can talk about it later."

Bella gave him a warm smile, letting him pull her to her feet as he stood up. She reached up to kiss him lightly on the mouth, before turning to head back indoors.

**~o0o~  
**

Huge cumulus clouds scudded rapidly across the blue sky, dappling the landscape below in light and shade. A steady breeze ensured that even those clouds which were pregnant with rain moved quickly to the east, never lingering long enough to release their heavy load.

High on the hill—the almost stereotypical English vista spread out before them like a Constable painting—stood Edward and Bella, their hands clasped between them.

They had come to Boxhill in Surrey on a warm May afternoon at Edward's request—one Bella had been happy to go along with, despite the long drive, especially when he'd explained the reason. He described the one occasion when Marcus had brought Edward and his mother to this idyllic spot, telling her that it was amongst the few happy memories he had from his childhood—it went without saying that all of those involved Marcus. They had brought a picnic and the weather had been hot, but with a kind breeze to keep them cool. Marcus had surprised the small boy with the gift of a kite, which he had then proceeded to teach Edward to fly.

As he described the moment when his kite had soared up into the sky, his smile had lit up his handsome face, and Bella could clearly see the child he'd been. What she also saw, much to her relief, was a wistfulness that spoke of fond memories, minus the dark and heart-wrenching sorrow which had previously been Edward's constant companion.

She hoped, with every fibre of her being, that the task they were about to perform would free him from the last remaining shackles of his past.

Relinquishing his grip on her, Edward now brought his hand to the lid of the plain aluminium canister he was holding. He glanced at Bella, and then down at the receptacle which held his mother's ashes.

Taking a deep breath, he started to speak.

"Do you remember, Mum, what a brilliant day we had here? You made corned beef and pickle sandwiches and Marcus helped me make the cupcakes with butter icing… except you called them fairy cakes. We had Coke to drink and you didn't even mind that there was no wine or vodka. I remember you laughing… you laughed a lot that day, even when I pretended to puke when Marcus kissed you.

"It was such a fantastic day, wasn't it, Mum? On the way home, Marcus bought fish and chips, and we ate them in the garden because it was so warm. I went to bed, thinking that it'd been the best day of my life. And, for a long time, it really was. But I'm happy now, Mum… happier than I ever thought possible."

He glanced over at Bella, who simply stared at him, glassy-eyed, before transferring his attention back to the container.

"I wish so many things, Mum… but mostly, I wish you could have met Bella. I love her so much, and I'm pretty sure you would have loved her too. I'm sorry I couldn't save you, but I hope you're at peace now."

Bella wrapped both hands round his upper arm as his voice cracked, and a lone tear ran, unhindered, down his face. Ignoring it, he unscrewed the lid, and held up the canister.

"Be happy, Mum," he whispered, unable to speak louder for fear his voice would break. As he did, he tipped the metal urn and gave it a little shake. A stream of fine, grey ash poured from the open top and was immediately caught up and blown on the breeze, swirling and dissipating until it was all gone.

At last, Edward lowered his arm and replaced the lid on the tin. He looked around him, almost absently, before casting his eyes up to the sky. The sun was momentarily hidden, the only clue to its position being the golden aura rimming the large cloud currently obscuring it from view.

"Are you okay, my love?"

He dropped his gaze to Bella's and smiled. His eyes were a little watery, but she could see that they were clear and untroubled.

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm glad we came here… thanks for making the trip with me."

She shook her head, giving him a wry smile.

"How could I not, Edward? I love you… where you go, I go."

He turned to face her fully, dipping slightly to place the empty can on the ground next to his foot. Straightening up, he captured her face with both hands and crashed his mouth to hers. He poured every ounce of feeling into the kiss, wanting Bella to be in no doubt of the depth of his love for her. It was almost as if, with his final farewell to his mother, he was giving himself permission to move forward; he knew that every step he took from here on in would be with Bella beside him.

In turn, she accepted everything he had to give, slipping her hands into the thick, soft hair at the nape of his neck. She opened her mouth to him, her tongue making contact with his… sliding, dancing, tasting.

Breathless, they paused but didn't draw apart. Forehead to forehead, they remained silent as their breathing returned to normal until, reluctantly, Edward drew back slightly. As he did, a strong breeze suddenly swirled around them, lifting Bella's hair so that it whipped around her face. As quickly as it arrived, it dropped and calmed, just as the sun burst out from behind the fluffy white cloud, bathing them both in a pool of light and warmth. As one, they smiled, their eyes meeting, before Edward glanced up at the sky.

"Thanks, Mum," he whispered.

Bella cupped his face, stroking her thumb over his high, sharply-defined cheekbone.

"You ready to go?" she asked softly.

He nodded in acquiescence. Turning to walk back up the hill towards the car park, he slipped his hand around Bella's shoulders, whilst hers crept around his waist. As they crested the peak and reached the footpath, Edward paused to glance back once more. He gazed out over the endless vista below him, a rich tapestry in every shade of green, and smiled. Bella stood silently beside him, letting him have his moment. Then, without a word, he turned back, dropped a kiss on the top of her head and then continued walking.

* * *

*** Clarifications:**

Temperature – Mid-20s, e.g. 25 degrees Celsius = 77 degrees Fahrenheit


	24. Forever

**Chapter 24 ~ Forever**

The twentieth of June dawned bright and sunny, promising another fine summer's day and, despite the early hour, the sounds of lovemaking rang around the bedroom as Bella rode her boyfriend's body hard and a little wildly. Her hands stroked and clutched and pinched, fingers trailing in the wake of the sun's golden tentacles, which crept rapidly through the window and past the half-open curtains to illuminate her peach-toned skin.

Sighs and groans, as well as muttered expletives, escaped them both, and Bella knew she needed to chase down her orgasm quickly now. She could tell that Edward was close… closer than she, and knew he would be pissed off with himself if he came first.

There was no way she was going to let him be pissed off, today of all days.

Leaning back, she glanced down at where he was buried deep inside her, the sight making her heart beat faster, and the tingling in her belly increase.

Bringing her hand up to her face, she wrapped her lips round her first two fingers, slowly letting her tongue liberally moisten the tips. When her eyes sought Edward's, she found them fixed intently upon her, his own tongue instinctively licking his lips.

"Watch me," she breathed, before pushing two fingers inside herself, just above where they were joined, and circling her clit.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, he cupped the back of her head with one hand and gripped her hip with the other, continuing to thrust up into her as he captured her lips. Breathing noisily through their noses, they broke apart and, as one, looked down to where Bella continued to touch herself.

"Jesus, Bella, that's so fucking sexy," he groaned.

He felt her tense and clench around him, her head lolling back as she sped up her movements. And then Edward's name was exploding from her lips, over and over, mixed in with barely coherent declarations of love, followed swiftly by his own cries of pleasure and exclamations of devotion.

The ascendant sun made their skin glow and sparkle, as the sheen of sweat coating their bodies caught the shards of light which now danced across the room.

Sated, they continued to cling to one another, kissing when breath would allow, or simply staring into one another's eyes… there they found no secrets, no doubts—only love, pure and simple, deep and abiding.

"Happy birthday, Edward," Bella breathed against his mouth, feeling his lips curve into a smile as he fell back on the bed, pulling her with him.

_Happiest birthday ever, thanks to you, my love, _he thought to himself, before drifting back to sleep beside his beautiful Bella.

**~o0o~**

Later that evening, Bella sat at the dressing table in their hotel room, gazing down at the gold signet ring she held between her thumbs and forefingers. It was engraved on its face with an elaborate letter 'M', and she'd collected it yesterday from the jewellers. Now, in celebration of Edward's birthday, they were spending the night at Whatley Manor, a beautiful country house hotel in Malmesbury, about ten miles from Chipping Mallard, where they were currently getting ready to dine. They would return home the following day, and then, on Saturday afternoon, they'd invited about twenty friends to a party at the cottage. The forecast promised fine, warm weather, and Jasper had volunteered his much-trumpeted grilling skills on the big, new gas-fired barbecue Bella and Edward had recently purchased.

She had thought long and hard about what to buy Edward for his birthday. Her first thought was to buy him a car, but he'd already decided to put some of Molly's bequest towards a decent second-hand vehicle. Rose and Emmett were coming for the weekend, and Emmett had already promised Edward he would accompany him to Cheltenham on Sunday morning, to check out a car he'd seen advertised in the local paper.

Hearing the shower turn off, Bella slipped the ring back in its box and thence inside the small gift bag she'd bought. Nestling it in the bed of tissue paper, she covered it over and then put it in her handbag. She knew he wasn't expecting it, as she'd already given him an iPad this morning, loaded with several cookery apps, which would help him create and record all his recipe ideas. He'd been over the moon, expressing his gratitude in exhausting but very satisfying ways.

Emerging from the bedroom with just a towel slung low around his hips, Edward grinned at Bella as he vigorously dried his hair. She couldn't help but admire his lean, hard body—the smattering of soft hair on his chest, tapering between his pecs and forming a coppery trail which disappeared beneath the terry cloth that barely covered his lower body. She shivered with pleasure as she recalled how that same body had pounded into her from behind little more than an hour earlier, as she was bent over the big four-poster bed.

The skinny kid she'd picked up on that freezing night seven months earlier was a thing of the past—now he was a man in every sense of the word. He'd been a good-looking boy, mature beyond his years when they'd met, but in just a few short months he'd grown into a strong, hardworking and very successful professional chef. He was truly her equal in every way—and it didn't hurt that he was also drop-dead gorgeous, sexy to the nth degree, and a spectacular lover.

She turned fully and watched as he dropped his towel, admiring his fantastic arse as he bent to pull on his soft, body-hugging boxer-briefs. He looked round when she sighed loudly.

"What?" he asked, frowning

"Mmmm, just admiring the view!" she responded, smiling up at him.

He smirked, a slight blush heating his cheeks. "Well, we could always get room service, you know."

He walked slowly towards her, an expectant look on his face.

"Absolutely not—I'm looking forward to getting the whole double-Michelin star experience in the restaurant downstairs. So, put your trousers on, Don Juan."

Edward chuckled, bending down to kiss her lightly, before turning back to the wardrobe, where his shirt and suit were hanging.

Once he was dressed, Bella took a moment to fully appreciate the strikingly handsome man in front of her. Unlike the suit he'd bought before Christmas, when he'd first started earning, this one was made-to-measure. Too long, lean and broad-shouldered to find something off-the-peg that fitted perfectly, Bella had suggested he spend some of Molly's money on a really good-quality tailored jacket, with two pairs of matching trousers—the result was, in her somewhat biased opinion, truly dazzling.

She stood up and walked towards him, glad that she'd splashed out on a sexy new outfit. It was a figure-hugging, strapless green dress, which complimented both the bracelet Edward had given her for Christmas, and the colour of his tie—which, in turn, accentuated his grass-green eyes. Stopping in front of him, she reached out and rubbed her hands up and down his arms.

"You look positively edible, my love," she purred, smiling up at him.

"Hmm, I'm not the only one… with all the good things to eat in this room, I doubt we'll find anything better downstairs." He arched an eyebrow and gave her his best smile—the one she'd told him she could never resist—and waited for her response.

What he got was a playful slap on the chest and a view of Bella's sensational bottom as she walked away from him, shaking her head.

"You're not playing fair with the sexy smirk and eyebrow combo—you know it makes me putty in your hands."

He pursed his lips, a rueful expression on his face. "Well, apparently, you're becoming immune to it, so it looks like I need to up my game," he said, following in her wake as she left the room.

Bella hurried towards the stairs, as if she needed to put distance between them in order to overcome her lack of self-control, so Edward didn't hear her muttered 'God forbid'.

**~o0o~**

A couple of hours later, Edward had to admit that dinner was sublime. Undoubtedly, the experience was enhanced by the beauty of their surroundings, as they sat at a terrace table overlooking the stunning landscaped gardens of the old manor house hotel. Clinking glasses, he and Bella watched the setting sun paint the sky in rich hues of gold, pink and vermillion, before slipping below the horizon. With the sun gone, and twilight falling softly around them, the warmth of the early summer day soon began to leach away, and Bella shivered a little.

"Hey, are you cold? Do you want to go inside?" Edward asked, reaching for her hand.

"No, I'm fine. Let's just sit here for a bit longer, it's so nice." She smiled across at him, wanting to extend this quiet time with him for a few minutes more.

Edward pursed his lips and then stood, slipping his jacket off and walking round behind her to drape it over her shoulders. She looked up at him and he took the opportunity to bend down to capture her lips with his before returning to his seat.

Bella murmured a soft 'thank you', and then leaned down to pick up her bag where it rested between her feet.

"I have one more gift I wanted to give you," she told him, smirking as he frowned in confusion. "Now, don't look at me like that, it's just something small, but I wanted to give you something more personal than an iPad."

She produced the small gift bag and put it in front of him.

He looked at it for several seconds before picking it up and peering inside.

Bella chuckled. "Well, don't just _look_ at it… I promise it won't bite."

He shook his head in resignation and delved inside, pulling the tissue paper out to reveal the ring box within.

He glanced sharply up at Bella, before taking the box out of the bag and snapping it open.

"Fuck, Bella…"

He stared down at the ring for an age, then raised his eyes to hers. She smiled encouragingly, but as he continued to just gaze wordlessly at her, she felt her smile slip.

"You don't like it," she said, sighing and reaching to take it from him.

"What? No… yes… I mean, Jesus, Bella, it's…"

He looked back down at the ring and then finally plucked it out of the box. He held it between his forefingers and thumbs, much as Bella had earlier. As he examined it, he noticed something engraved inside the ring and peered closer.

"_Hearts converge_," he murmured, looking up at Bella, his eyes blazing with emotion.

"Do… do you like it?" she asked uncertainly.

"Oh, Bella… sweetheart…"

He stood suddenly, walked around the table and bent to take her hand to pull her to her feet and into his arms. His mouth met hers in a searing kiss, which she returned with the same passion and intensity. When at last they drew apart, he looked down at her, raising his hand to gently stroke her cheek.

"I love it, Bella." He released her, bringing his other hand up and sliding the ring onto the pinkie finger of his right hand. It was a perfect fit. "But you've kind of stolen my thunder," he went on, a wry smile playing across his lips.

Bella frowned, staring up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Edward pulled away from her, glancing down at the table.

"Have you had enough to eat? If you want something else, would you mind if we had it sent up to our room?"

"Um, no, I'm fine, let's just get the bill."

As if by magic, a waiter appeared beside them; minutes later, they let themselves back into their suite, where Bella instantly noted that something was different… someone had been there whilst they were eating.

"Wha… how… where did all this come from," she stuttered as she surveyed the scene before her.

The big bed was covered in red and white rose petals; on the small coffee table was a wine bucket filled with ice, from which a bottle of Bollinger champagne protruded; beside it were two crystal champagne flutes and a box of incredibly decadent-looking Belgian truffles. Finally, the French doors onto the balcony had been opened and a huge vase of stargazer lilies had been placed atop the small wicker table. A soft breeze blew in through the windows, wafting the sweet, fragrant scent of the flowers around the room.

Behind her, Bella felt Edward enclosing her in his arms, his lips finding her neck as he held her tightly.

"I arranged it with the Manager yesterday. I wanted everything to be perfect, Bella."

He relinquished his hold on her, only to take her hand and lead her to the bed, where he encouraged her to sit. Bella looked up at him, her eyes full of questions as he continued to gaze wordlessly down at her. Her heart thrummed in her chest, and her eyes grew wide when he suddenly dropped to one knee in front of her.

"Edward…?" she whispered.

"Bella… my love, my best friend, my guardian angel. This may well turn out to be the cheesiest thing I've ever—or _will_ ever—do, but I have to do it right.

"I love you, Bella… with every atom and fibre of my being. It's impossible to imagine loving anyone else this way, and it's pure torture to think about my life without you. I want this… I want _you_ for always… or for as long as you'll have me."

He paused and slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket, bringing out a small, bottle green velvet box. Bella gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth.

Snapping open the box, Edward pulled out the ring that lay within, a slightly sheepish expression on his face.

"I got this a few months ago… it's not the most expensive ring in the world, and when I start earning better money, I'll get you something bet—"

Bella stopped his somewhat apologetic explanation by pressing her fingers to his lips.

"It's beautiful, Edward… it's… oh, my love, it's perfect," she told him, her voice cracking with emotion.

She held out her left hand, which he took in his, sliding the ring onto her third finger.

For a moment, neither of them spoke as they stared down at Bella's hand. The ring was antique, with two large, cushion-cut amethysts side by side, bracketed by two smaller cushion-cut emeralds and two small natural pearls between the amethysts, all in a fourteen carat gold setting.

It was Bella who finally looked up.

"So, did you have a question for me, love?" she asked softly, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Edward looked up sharply, his eyes wide.

"Oh, crap … I mean, yeah, uh… oh, hell, I've really fucked this up, haven't I?"

He covered his face with his hands, before running them through his hair.

Bella cupped his strong jaw, shaking her head and smiling.

"No, not at all, beautiful man. Just ask me," she urged gently.

With a rueful smile, he once again took her hand and gazed intently into her lovely eyes, which reflected back the adoration he felt.

"Bella, will you marry me and let me love you for the rest of my life?"

A single tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek, as a huge but tremulous smile lit up her face.

"Yes, Edward… a million times yes! Oh, God, I love you so much!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around his neck.

They kissed, passion quickly taking on an urgency that neither could deny. Getting to their feet, they separated briefly, only to divest themselves of their clothes. Both now naked, they once again locked lips, shuffling and stumbling back to the bed. They fell awkwardly across the mattress, Bella's giggle turning to a loud gasp as strong arms shifted her up and she met Edward's intense gaze.

"I love you, Bella… there'll never be anyone else for me, _ever_," he whispered against her lips.

"I know, my love," she replied, holding his face between her hands and gently rubbing her thumbs up and down his knife-blade cheekbones. "And you're _it _for me, too."

She punctuated her statement by arching her back, the movement allowing him to slide easily inside her, making them both groan.

With long, deep thrusts, Edward worked to show Bella just how much he loved her, and her hips rose up to meet his with equal passion and need. Together, they built slowly to a mind-numbing, breath-stealing climax, crying out their love as they both clung to one another, sated but still needing to keep the other close.

"Best… birthday… ever…" Edward exclaimed as he fought to catch his breath.

Bella giggled, and then groaned, as it effectively expelled him from her body.

"Many happy returns, my love," she cooed against his ear.

"Oh, yeah… many, many _very_ happy returns, I hope!" he chuckled, kissing her softly.

**~o0o~**

"Oh, my good God, Bella, he put a ring on it!"

Alice hadn't even made it through the door when, as if by some kind of magnetic force, her eyes were drawn to Bella's left hand. She grabbed hold of it with both of hers, pulling it up to gaze at the ring which adorned her third finger.

She and Jasper had, as usual, come through the garden gate, and he'd remained outside talking to Edward and Emmett, whilst she had come to find her friend in the kitchen.

"Oh, Bella, it's so pretty… and it matches your bracelet. I want to know everything—what he said, how he said it… although you can stop when you get to the post-proposal shag-fest. I'm sure it was fab, but I don't want to be thinking about Edward's ginger pubes… oh, bugger, too late!"

Bella burst into loud, rather unladylike guffaws of laughter, slapping Alice ineffectually on the arm. After several minutes of this, when Alice, too, succumbed to snorts and giggles, they collapsed against one another.

Pulling back and sliding her fingers under her eyes to try and save her make-up, Bella shook her head at Alice.

"You're such a terrible woman, Ally... and for your information, Edward's pubes are not ginger, they're a subtle shade of copper and auburn, so there!"

"Hmm, copper, schmopper, he'll always be a ginger! Now, enough with the pube talk." Alice wrinkled her nose, shoving Bella playfully.

"Oh, you started it! Anyway, I'm done. Let's get you a drink, and we can talk about above-the-waist matters."

She poured them both a glass of cold Sauvignon Blanc, and they sat down on either side of the kitchen table. Sipping their drinks, Alice smiled and sighed as Bella told her all about their wonderful stay at Whatley Manor, the fabulous meal they'd eaten and, finally, Edward's beautifully romantic proposal. They both gazed at her ring, and Alice reached for Bella's hand to get a closer look.

"It really is lovely, Bella. So unusual," she said, brushing her thumb over the amethysts.

"It's absolutely perfect, Alice. Edward keeps saying he wants to get me something better when he can afford it, but he could never find one I like more."

She smiled to herself, sitting back and staring at her hand, before looking back up at Alice.

"You know, Jake used to say that one day he'd put a 'big rock' on my finger, and I'd always cringe at the idea. I hate ostentation, and I just knew that if he ever did buy me a ring, it would be incredibly vulgar. Edward knows me so well, and even though he originally bought this as a piece of costume jewellery, it's exactly the kind of engagement ring I would have chosen for myself."

Just then, Rose wandered in and joined them at the table, topping up all their glasses as Alice sat back, sighing dramatically.

"God, if I didn't already have the man of my dreams, I think I'd be crying into my wine over Edward being unavailable… bless his cotton underpants, he's such a sweetheart."

Bella smirked. "That he is, Ally, that he is. I love him so much… I didn't think it was even possible to love someone this much."

Her two friends leaned across, placing a hand on top of hers, and smiled knowingly. She looked quizzically at her old friend.

"You too, Rose? Has Emmett crossed the shark-infested moat, raised the drawbridge, and infiltrated your fortifications?"

A snort of laughter was the response and soon, all three of them were giggling like schoolgirls, as they revelled in their good fortune.

Calming at last, Rose smiled sheepishly at Bella, shaking her head in bemusement.

"Yeah, he's just… well, amazing really. He's sweet and kind and incredibly gentle, but at the same time, he's strong and ferociously protective and just… so damned sexy, he makes me practically melt into a pile a goo—which is _so_ not me. But he… _gets_ me, you know? We haven't talked about marriage or anything yet, but…well, I can't imagine being without him, so I'm pretty sure it's on the cards. So, yeah, Emmett blew his trumpet, and the walls of Rosalie came tumbling down!"

"_You_ blew his trumpet, you mean!" Bella snorted.

Their laughter was interrupted this time by a sharp rap on the back door jamb, which made them all jump. They turned in unison to see Jasper leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with an expression of amused tolerance on his face.

"What are you three plotting in here? You're like the Witches of Eastwick. Come on, it's time to get your gorgeous arses outside so we can toast the birthday boy and stuff ourselves with Carlisle's marinated lamb and chicken—my stomach feels like my throat's been cut."

Laughing, they all trooped outside, where Esme was pouring champagne, whilst their friends all stood around a bashful-looking Edward. His relief at the sight of Bella was tangible, and he quickly clasped her to his side.

When everyone's glass had been topped up with either beer or wine, Carlisle stepped forward.

"Bella, I hope you don't mind, but I'd just like to say a few words."

"The stage is yours, Carl, knock yourself out," she chuckled, glancing up at Edward, who now seemed oblivious to what was happening, as he only had eyes for her.

"Thanks, you're too kind. Ez? Come here, honey," he said, holding his arm out so that she could slip beneath it, allowing him to pull her close.

"First of all, a big thanks to Bella and Edward for inviting us into their beautiful home to share their celebration. Since Esme and I arrived, the whole town has been incredibly welcoming, but none more so than the good people here today, who I'd like to think have become true friends.

"We've all gathered today to help Edward celebrate his birthday. He hasn't had the easiest life, and many youngsters could have turned out very bad indeed, given his breaks. But he's made of sterner stuff, and has become a man that any parent would be proud of. Sadly, his parents aren't here to tell him, so I hope he won't mind if I say it for them. You're a good man, Edward, and a talented chef with a great future—a future you've worked your ass off to secure, and I'm proud of you, son. Happy birthday!"

He hoisted his glass, as everyone mimicked the toast to a desperately embarrassed Edward. He glanced up to meet Carlisle's eyes, but any words he might have tried to form were held captive by the lump in his throat.

He was saved from having to speak by Alice stepping up beside Carlisle and Esme, silencing the guests by clinking a teaspoon against her glass.

"Thank you, Carlisle, for an absolutely wonderful speech. But, this has now become a double celebration, as it seems Edward popped the question a couple of nights ago, and Bella is now wearing a beautiful ring on her left hand."

Loud cheers and wolf whistles erupted from those assembled, before Alice once again established order.

"When these two arrived in the middle of a blizzard back in November, I just knew that we'd be great friends. Bella is the kindest, most open-hearted person I've ever met, and is that rarity—a hugely talented artist with zero ego. As we all now know, she'd extricated herself that very night from a horrible situation and, in the process, she found Edward."

Alice turned her attention from a furiously blushing Bella to an equally squirming Edward.

"Oh, Edward, it's been such a joy to see you flourishing here in our little village, where you've become such a wonderful asset to our community, as well as a really good friend. I know you didn't have the best start in life, but fate brought you and Bella together for a reason, and I like to think that a little bit of magic was woven the night you met and came here to Chipping Mallard.

"So, I want to ask everyone to raise their glasses to wish Edward and Bella every happiness in their future marriage."

She held her glass aloft, as everyone called out 'Edward and Bella'; then, they were all talking at once, several demanding a speech.

Both blushing furiously, they smiled at one another, before Bella was pushing Edward forward. Amidst cheers from the assembled guests, he turned to face them, his face ablaze, but grinning broadly.

"Um, well, this is… shit, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say…" He glanced at Bella, who smiled at him encouragingly.

"Well, I s'pose I should thank Carlisle and Esme for giving me a chance. I lit'rally have the job of my dreams, and Carlisle has taught me so much. Thanks, guys. And thanks, Carl, for what you just said… it… well, it means a hell of a lot.

"As for Alice, well she's been a great friend… I've never had friends like her and Jasper, and I'm so grateful to them—not just for being such lovely people, but for never judging me or treating me like anything other than an equal. You'll never know how much that meant… _means_ to me.

"Thanks to all of you for making me so welcome here and for coming today—this is the best birthday I've ever had. I keep wanting to pinch myself because I can hardly believe the life I now have and all the brilliant friends I've made.

"But, I'm sure you'll understand that my biggest thanks are reserved for the beautiful lady who is responsible for all this. I swear, I'm the luckiest man on the planet, and the fact that Bella has agreed to marry me has made me the _happiest_ man on the planet.

"I love you, Bella, and all I want is to live a long and happy life with you. I promise to do everything in my power to make you as happy as you make me."

The woman in question parted from the crowd and walked straight up to Edward, wrapping her arms around his waist. Gazing up at him, she made no effort to stop the tears which overflowed and rolled down her cheeks, so that when he kissed her, he tasted salt.

Their guests cheered and clapped, before drifting away to other parts of the garden, giving them some privacy—although, at that precise moment, they were both completely oblivious.

Breaking the kiss, Edward took Bella's glass and put it down on the table with his, before gathering her back in his arms.

"I can't wait to marry you, Bella—please say we can do it soon," he said, stroking his thumbs across her cheeks to gather up the dampness he found there.

"Oh, Edward, I can't wait to be your wife. I don't want a big wedding, let's just book somewhere, invite our friends and do it."

Edward's grin nearly split his face. "Sounds like a great plan—how about next week?"

Bella chuckled. "Hmm, well I think that might be pushing it. How about September? I was thinking maybe the week before my birthday… before I'm thirty."

He threw his head back and laughed aloud. "Again with the age thing, love? You know I don't care about that."

"I know, I know, but it would be nice to marry you while we're both in our twenties. The seventh is a Saturday, and I may or may not have found out that Whatley Manor could fit us in that day. I thought it would be nice to get married at the place where you proposed."

"You already called them? Wow, I… fuck, that would be fantastic! God, yes, let's book it!"

He dipped his head to capture her lips in another scorching kiss, which was only interrupted when Emmett clapped Edward on the back, announcing 'grub's up!'

They broke apart as people started moving towards the barbecue area, and he grinned down at Bella before turning to their friends. Raising his voice, he drew their attention back to him.

"Hey, before you eat, can you all please check your diaries to see if you're free to attend a wedding on the seventh of September?"

Loud whoops and squeals rent the air, and then everyone was closing in once again to congratulate Edward and Bella, who were taking the next big step towards a future filled with happiness and endless possibilities.


	25. Epilogue

**The end is nigh...**

* * *

**Chapter 25 ~ Epilogue**

_**Four Years Later**_

Bella paced up and down, her hands alternately sweeping her hair from her face, and plucking at her skirt, which seemed to have shrunk since she put it on earlier that morning.

The scent of books, which usually had a calming effect on her, now caused a dry, tingly irritation in the back of her throat, making her nose wrinkle. She had been to many, many book-signings since she first became a published author but, for some inexplicable reason, this one was putting her on edge like never before.

She glanced across at a tall, good-looking man with shoulder-length dark hair and several days' growth of dark stubble, who was currently talking softly to the store manager.

"Garrett… _GARRETT!"_

He looked up, arching an eyebrow and smirking, before finally excusing himself and walking towards her.

"What is it, Bella? Wouldn't you be more comfortable if you sat down?" he asked solicitously.

"I'll sit down when I'm ready," she snapped. "Where are the ropes to keep the fans back? And why isn't there any water on the table? There needs to be water… and there are nowhere near enough books… and whose idea was that ridiculous cardboard cut-out? It's… it's _puerile_, Garrett—"

"Bella, it's neither ridiculous, nor puerile… it's hot. And you need to calm down—everything is under control, so please stop worrying."

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms as she continued to scowl—at him, at the manager, at the table, and at the growing army of fans she could see gathering outside. To add to her already frayed nerves, said fans were predominantly female and, to her critical eye, just a tad crazy looking.

"Calm down, sweetheart, it's going to be fine, I promise. Come on, you don't want Edward to see you getting all worked up when he arrives, do you?"

Bella looked up at the tall man, her eyes wide.

"And that's another thing… where the hell is he?"

"He'll be here any minute, he just got caught up in traffic. Now, for the love of God, will you _please_ just sit down and take a few deep breaths!"

Bella could hear the irritation starting to creep into Garrett's voice and sighed, running her hands through her hair in resignation.

"You're right, I'm sorry, I just—"

At that moment, she caught sight of a shock of copper hair; without another word, she walked away from Garrett and into the arms of the smiling man who had just arrived.

"You're here," she whispered softly against his neck. With his arms wrapped tightly around her, she finally felt like she could breathe.

"I'm sorry I'm late, the traffic was a pig. Are you okay?"

Edward pulled back a little, looking down at her with concern.

"I'm fine now you're here. I'm just fussing for no reason… blame it on the hormones."

She gave him a wry smile, making him chuckle as he brought a hand round between them and placed it over her visibly swollen belly.

"Hey, now, don't go stressing out my little princess," he said, spreading his large hand over Bella's bump.

"I know, I know… and you've got to stop assuming it's a girl, otherwise you may well end up being disappointed."

Edward rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"It's a girl, I'd put money on it. But even if it's a boy, I'm hardly going to be disappointed… it just means we'll have to keep trying until we get a girl."

Bella's retort was forestalled, as Garrett walked over to them.

"Break it up, you two. We need to get this show on the road before the ravening hordes break down the door."

Edward and Bella both looked towards the front of the store with some alarm, then turned back to the older man.

"Okay, you ready?" Garrett asked.

Edward kissed Bella quickly but soundly and then let her go. He turned towards the large table behind him, which was now cordoned off with plastic ropes to keep the crowd back, forcing them to queue in an orderly fashion. As he sauntered across the shop, his eye was caught by the life-sized cardboard cut-out showing him posing in his white chef's coat, a faint smirk playing across his lips. He glanced back at Bella and Garrett and rolled his eyes—it wasn't so much the pose that made him feel a bit self-conscious, but the fact that the jacket was half undone, displaying a wide swath of toned chest, over which he had his arms crossed.

The image was also replicated on the cover of the books displayed around the table and on its surface. Edward's first cookery book, _Masen's Mouthwatering Morsels_, had come off the back of his first television series, which had seen him described, universally, as TV's Sexy Chef, much to his chagrin. And here he was now, at another first, a book signing at Foyles in London.

Two years earlier, he'd become Head Chef at Carlisle's second restaurant, Cullenary Quisine in London's Mayfair. Quickly garnering a series of glowing reviews, it had earned its first Michelin star just a year after opening, and the television producers had come calling. Unable to believe their luck that Edward Masen was not only a supremely talented chef, but also an astonishingly charismatic and photogenic man, they were willing to pretty much throw money at him to get him on television.

Needless to say, Edward's easy charm, enthusiasm for his craft, and devastating good looks had made him an instant star of the small screen, and brought him a huge following—predominantly women and gay men.

With a top-rated TV show, it wasn't long before publishers were offering large sums of money for a book, and now, here he was, at the launch of his first cookery volume. His agent, Garrett McCain, whom Edward had been introduced to by Eli Weisman, had done a fantastic job of supporting and guiding Edward to this point, and he was both excited and anxious about how it would be received.

As the doors opened and the large crowd made a beeline to where Edward sat waiting, he started to believe what Garrett and, more especially, his wife had been telling him for months.

His book was going to be a huge success.

Bella stood to one side, watching Edward greet each person with a smile; her heart felt like it would burst with the love and pride it held. Her insecurities of four years ago had long-since been washed away by his obvious and endless devotion, and she'd never once, in the intervening years, given a single thought to the possibility he might be attracted to —and leave her for—one of the many women who came on to him. The last year had seen those women grow in number, but Edward hardly even seemed to notice them.

Right now, she found herself being fascinated by the reactions of many of the ladies—and, indeed, some of the men—when Edward turned on that smile which had always made her tremble with desire. Knowing that he was hers, body and soul, she had to feel a little sorry for those who practically swooned on the spot. It was no wonder his television career had been so successful.

She had to wonder how many of the people buying his book would actually use it to cook something—but, really, did it matter as long as they bought it? Bella loved the fact that Edward was now a success in his own right, something she'd never doubted would happen—although she'd be lying if she'd claimed to know it would be quite so stratospheric.

But the level of his success was irrelevant to her. He'd worked so hard for everything he'd achieved and, as far as she was concerned, he deserved every bit of it, great or small.

She became aware of the baleful glances of more than one of the women as they walked away from the table, clutching their signed books to their chests. Bella had to force herself not to roll her eyes, and decided it was probably a good time to follow Garrett's advice and take the weight off her feet. Approaching Edward, she put her hand on his shoulder and leaned down to speak softly in his ear, ignoring the irritated stares of those still queuing.

"I'm just going out back to sit down and get a cup of tea. I'll see you in a bit."

He turned fully, a look of concern flickering across his face.

"Are you okay… do you need me to come with you?"

"No, silly, finish your signing, I just need to get off my feet before my ankles swell up and you leave me for a cute groupie."

She chuckled at his feigned look of horror, walking away before he could respond.

Slipping through the door into the small green room reserved for authors and their friends, she made herself a cup of tea and sat down with a grateful sigh. Edward would be at least another hour, so she grabbed her laptop from the bag she'd left there when she'd arrived and flipped it open. A huge smile lit her face, as it always did when she looked at her desktop—a collage of her wedding and honeymoon photos. With little effort, she cast her mind back to that wonderful day almost four years earlier…

**~o0o~**

_Bella made her way up the short aisle created by guest seating in the Drawing Room of Whatley Manor on a beautiful September afternoon. Her progress was, of necessity, rather slow, as she held on tight to her Uncle Peter's arm, knowing she was more of a support to him than vice versa. Not that it mattered to her—just the sight of Peter's face, glowing with love and pride, was enough to temper her pace, despite the prize which awaited her at the end of the room._

_And such a prize he was, standing tall and straight in his charcoal Gucci suit, watching as she moved towards him. Beneath the trimmed but still chaotic mop of copper hair, his vibrant green eyes shone with happiness, above a smile which spanned his face from ear to ear. _

_Bella had chosen an above-the-knee, white halter-neck wedding dress, not wanting a long gown to potentially trip Peter. The fitted bodice was embroidered with silver and crystal beads above a flared silk skirt, showing off her glorious legs to maximum effect. Completing the look, she wore a pair of high-heeled, strappy silver shoes, and had her long, mahogany hair coiled into an elegant chignon._

_To Edward, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on._

_So patiently he waited, knowing that she was already his. When her uncle was finally able to hobble into position and pass her hand symbolically into Edward's keeping, the happy couple both murmured their heartfelt thanks._

_And then it was just the two of them—barely conscious of the Registrar, whilst the guests, for the moment, were entirely forgotten._

_Their vows were traditional, but there was nothing offhand or perfunctory about the way they were expressed. Eye-to-eye, they spoke the ancient oaths, imbuing them with all the love and joy and hope they held in their hearts. When all the words were used up, they sealed the vows with a kiss so deep, so profound… so utterly all-consuming, that it was only the cheers and laughter of the small group of friends and family which brought them back to reality. _

_Thereafter, the day had spun away from them, becoming a blur of eating, drinking, speeches and dancing, but over and above all else had been love and laughter._

_There were, of course, special moments which stood out in Bella's memory—the vicar's pronouncement that she and Edward were now husband and wife; the way he had looked at her each time their eyes met; their first dance, to Adele's version of 'Make You Feel My Love', and the way Edward had kissed her as they swayed together in splendid isolation—with love and passion, to be sure, but also with an exultation which left her breathless and a little giddy._

_And then there were the speeches—the first one from Rose. Predictably, her friend had point-blank refused to be referred to as a Maid of Honour, citing the fact that she was neither a 'maid' nor particularly honourable. Bella, of course, had only disputed the latter, making Rose laugh, and they had compromised with the term 'Best Woman'. As expected, Rose had been honest, funny and utterly filthy, and Bella had loved her all the more for it._

_For Edward, his choice of best man had been a simple one. In the absence of anyone from his past, there was only one person he wanted by his side when he married Bella—the man who was his employer, his mentor and his friend_—_Carlisle Cullen. He had proved to be an excellent choice._

_Edward had never been more certain of anything in his life than he was of his love for Bella and his desire to marry her. Nevertheless, there were days in the run-up to the wedding, when he felt himself having doubts—not about his feelings for her, but about his ability to be a good husband, protector and provider. He knew Bella didn't actually _need_ him to provide for her, but he wanted to believe that, should necessity demand it, he could, indeed, be anything and everything that was required of a spouse. It was at times like these that Carlisle was there to soothe him with wise and judicious advice. At his stag party, Carlisle ensured that Edward didn't end up naked and tied to a lamp-post in the High Street, and on the morning of the wedding, he was a stalwart friend and a calming influence on the nervous bridegroom._

_Bella had known nothing of this until after the ceremony, when, lying breathless in one another's arms, he'd told her, saying that he couldn't believe he'd ever suffered a moment's anxiety about marrying her._

_From the beauty of the wedding, held in the stunning environs of Whatley Manor and its grounds, Bella's mind wandered to the sublime and unfettered joy of their honeymoon in the Seychelles. They chose to spend two weeks at the very exclusive Cousine Island resort in the Indian Ocean, where the total accommodations amounted to four luxury villas. They were told that there were two other couples on the island during their stay, but they only caught occasional glimpses of their fellow honeymooners in the whole fourteen days. Bella assumed that, like she and Edward, their neighbours had much better things to do than socialise._

_Their time in the Seychelles was everything and more they could have wanted—it was a feast for all the senses. They enjoyed the comfort of a beautiful villa with rooms that opened onto their own private beach. They indulged themselves with wonderful food and drink, served on their terrace or on the beach by their own personal waiter. They went snorkelling in the crystal-clear ocean, where giant turtles swam close by, or they relaxed by the pool, reading or dozing in the sun. And, of course, they made love—in the enormous canopied bed, on the beach, on pretty much every static surface in the villa, in the sea, in the pool, and a few places in between. They didn't care if anyone saw or heard them—they were, after all, on a honeymoon island—and they relished every kiss, every touch, every whispered word of love, as they joined with one another over and over in exquisite and endless affirmation of their mutual adoration._

**~o0o~**

Bella smiled to herself at the thought of all the amazing sex they'd had on the island—and since, come to that. She squirmed a little, feeling her nipples harden, just at the idea of Edward's body worshipping her… being inside her. A small moan escaped her, and she placed a hand over her bump, remembering the night, five months earlier, when they'd made the small person who now grew within her…

**~o0o~**

_She had come off the pill just weeks earlier, and neither of them had any great expectations that Bella would get pregnant anytime soon—she'd been taking birth control for well over ten years and, at thirty-three, she automatically assumed it would take some time to conceive._

_She clearly hadn't factored in Edward's seemingly super-charged sperm._

_They'd been driving back to Chipping Mallard from London for a long weekend. It was Jasper's birthday, and they were both overdue some downtime, so were heading to the cottage late on a Thursday night, after Edward's shift at the restaurant. Bella was behind the wheel, as Edward still wasn't that confident about driving in London, and he was also pretty tired. However, he'd offered to take over once they got off the motorway, and Bella had teased him for falling asleep by rubbing her hand over his crotch. _

_Edward had woken up very quickly._

_Two minutes later, he was directing her to pull off the road so that they could swap over. It was pitch-dark, as they'd just passed through a small hamlet, and there was no street lighting on the stretch of road where they had stopped._

_Edward got out, moving quickly round the back of the car, just as Bella was climbing out on her side. Without a word, Edward opened the back door of the Land Rover, at the same time grabbing Bella's arms and tugging her towards him. The next thing she knew, he'd pushed her down on the backseat of the car and was hovering over her._

"_You think you can tease me like that and not follow through? Oh, Bella, have you learned nothing in the last three-and-a-half years?"_

"_In the back of a car, Edward? We're not horny teenagers!" Bella retorted, torn between feeling turned on by this turn of events, and irritated that her husband wanted to just fuck her in a car parked on the side of the road… where anyone might see them. _

"_Well, we're _not_ teenagers…"_

"_Edward! You can't be serious?"_

"_Oh, I'm fucking serious, all right! We haven't had sex all week, and if I don't get inside you in the next five minutes I think my balls may spontaneously combust!"_

_Bella giggled, but her laughter was short-lived, as Edward's mouth crushed her lips and robbed her of further verbalisation._

_As their kiss escalated, she couldn't prevent the moan which escaped her, nor could she object when Edward's hands drifted down her body and settled on the fly of her jeans. With a dexterity borne out of overwhelming need, he quickly divested her of both her outer and underwear, followed rapidly by his own. Moments later, their cries filled the interior of the car as Edward plunged deep inside Bella, immediately setting up a punishing rhythm._

_It was quick, and hard, and just a little awkward, even in the moderately spacious confines of a Land Rover Sport, but neither of them much cared as they sped wildly towards their mutual release. The soundtrack to their union was the creak of leather seats, the squeak of sports suspension and the slap of skin on skin, all underpinned by the grunts and gasps each elicited from the other. In the relative silence which followed, as hearts slowed and aching lungs recovered, Bella's attention was drawn to a signpost pointing back towards the tiny village they'd driven through. She shifted, peering over Edward's shoulder and ignoring his soft groan as he slipped out of her._

_And then she was giggling, the sound growing as she became convulsed with laughter. Utterly bemused, Edward tried to roll off her and fell onto the floor of the car, causing Bella's amusement to descend into very unladylike guffawing. _

"_What the fuck, Bella?"_

"_I—I'm s-s-sorry, love, but…" Again, the laughter took hold, forcing her to point impotently out the window. _

_At last, in the face of Edward's grumping as he pulled his jeans up and zipped his fly, she managed to control herself._

"_Oh, God, I'm sorry," she gasped, wiping her eyes. "It's just that if, by some miracle, you've managed to knock me up in the back of the car, we absolutely can't be one of those couples that names their baby after the place it was conceived."_

_Edward frowned and then looked again in the direction Bella was pointing. "The signpost, love…"_

_As Bella's laughter once again filled the car, Edward peered out the window at the pole which was now lit by a bright, iridescent moon, finally, seeing what Bella had seen._

_The village to which the signpost pointed was apparently just half a mile back on the B4030, and, more interestingly, was called Gagingwell._

**~o0o~**

Bella chuckled to herself when she recalled how the joke had, in fact, been on them. Just five weeks later, after throwing up for the third morning in a row, she realised that her normally regular period was late. Life had become hectic, especially with the success of Edward's new television career, and she'd completely overlooked the fact that her period had failed to materialise. It seemed unlikely that conception might have occurred so quickly but, nevertheless, she went out to pick up a couple of pregnancy tests… just in case.

**~o0o~**

_Back in the bedroom of their cosy Chelsea pied-à-terre, Bella sat and read the instructions on the boxes, but then decided to wait for Edward to come home before she used either of the tests—she wanted him there with her when she found out, one way or the other._

_It was a long wait, and more than once she thought about calling to ask him to come home early. In the end, she had managed to quell her impatience by cleaning out the kitchen cupboards, organising her small walk-in wardrobe, and bagging up clothes for the local Cancer Research charity shop._

_At last, though, Edward was home and she could give in to her excitement._

_Hearing the front door open and close, Bella rushed into the hallway to greet him, throwing her arms round his neck and kissing him hard. Startled at first, Edward quickly reciprocated, his own arms wrapping around her slender waist and pulling her close._

"_Ummm, this is nice," he said, grinning down at her as she finally broke the kiss. But, before he could go for round two, Bella was extricating herself from his grip, her face shining with excitement. Curious, he took her proffered hand and let her pull him towards the narrow staircase._

"_What's going on, Bella?" he asked, as he let her lead him upstairs to their bedroom. She didn't respond, merely flashing him a somewhat nervous smile over her shoulder._

_Utterly bemused now, he followed her across the room, looking at her askance as she turned and took his other hand. She walked backwards until she could sit on the bed, drawing him down beside her._

"_I'm so glad you're home, 'cos I'm dying for a pee, and I needed you to be here."_

_His frown deepened. "What? Bella, you're driving me nuts, what the hell are you going on about?"_

_In response, she leaned over to the bedside cabinet, pulling the drawer out and producing a long, blue box. Standing up, she stroked his cheek and smiled down at him. His answering smile was uncertain, and disappeared completely when his eyes drifted to the slim, white, pen-shaped item Bella had just drawn from the box._

_His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open, but before he could speak, she was backing away from him._

"_I'm going to go use this, so just wait right there."_

_She chuckled when he just sat there, staring at her with a look of complete shock on his face, seemingly robbed of the power of speech._

_However, as Bella disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, he was suddenly galvanised into action, jumping to his feet and striding to the open door. She looked up from where she was hovering over the loo, holding the plastic stick beneath her._

_Bracing both hands on either side of the doorframe, Edward gawked at his wife. "Bella…? Does this…? Are you…?"_

_He shook he head, trying to marshal his chaotic thoughts._

_Whilst he did so, Bella finished up, placing the stick carefully on the side of the basin in order to pull her knickers up, flush the toilet and wash her hands. Turning to a still-gaping Edward, she walked to where he stood in the doorway and placed a hand over his heart._

"_I'm sorry, I suppose I kind of sprang that on you. Come on, let's go sit down while it… does whatever it does."_

_She gently pushed against his chest, and he dropped his hand to grip her wrist._

"_How long?" he whispered._

"_Um, three minutes, I think." Again, she tried to get him to move from the door but, instead, he pushed her back into the bathroom. He closed the toilet lid, sat down on it and pulled her onto his lap. Winding his arms around her waist, he hugged her close and gazed intently into her warm, chocolate eyes._

"_We'll wait right here," he told her emphatically. "Jesus, Bella, do you think…?"_

"_I don't know, my love," she said, slipping her hands around to the back of his neck and gently stroking the soft hair at his nape. "I—I don't want you to get your hopes up, it might just be a false alarm, but… well, I'm late… my period's late, and I've been sick—"_

_He pulled back to look at her, concern etched on his face. "What? When?"_

"_Just the last few mornings, after breakfast… after you'd left for work."_

"_Why didn't you tell me?"_

"_It's only been, like, three days. I didn't put two and two together until it happened again this morning, and I realised I'm nearly two weeks late. The doctor did say that my periods might be a bit erratic for the first few months, so I hadn't really given it any thought until then."_

_Edward gazed at her for a long time, his mind in chaos as he tried, and failed, to absorb the enormity of becoming a father._

"_So, how… I mean, when, uh, you know… when do you think…?"_

_Bella giggled. "Are you asking when I might have conceived? Well, put it this way—I am _not_ calling our firstborn child Gagingwell!"_

_Edward threw his head back and laughed with delight but, as his eyes met hers, he quickly grew serious again._

"_Is it time?" he asked quietly, unable to completely control the slight tremble in his voice._

_Bella glanced at her watch and drew in a lungful of air._

"_Yeah, should be," she replied, tearing off several sheets of toilet paper and leaning across to pick up the stick from where it lay by the basin taps._

_Holding it away from them for a moment, she gave Edward a determined look._

"_Before we look at it, bear in mind that it's really soon for me to have conceived, after such a long time of being on the pill, so we probably shouldn't get our hopes up. If it's negative, then we'll just keep trying… and if it doesn't happen… well, then we'll deal with it together, like always. Okay?"_

_Edward gave her a soft smile, pulling her closer and resting his forehead against hers._

"_I know, love, it'll be fine…now, let's just look at the bloody thing!"_

_She smiled, bringing the plastic stick down while they both turned their heads to look at it._

_It seemed they both inhaled at the same time, and then the stick was clattering to the floor as they both fell into a tight embrace, tears of happiness mingling as their lips met._

**~o0o~  
**

A sharp kick from Edward's lively child brought Bella back into the here and now, making her swear softly, even as she smoothed her hand lovingly over her stomach. In the same moment, the door opened, and she was unable to contain the wide smile which lit up her face as the love of her life slipped into the room.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"Ummm, yeah, I was just a little tired, so I thought I'd sit down for a bit. Are you finished out there?"

"Yep, all done. Let's get you home for a proper rest."

She let him pull her to her feet, whereupon he busied himself gathering up their stuff before taking her hand and leading her from the room.

**~o0o~**

_**Four months later**_

Bella sat on the sofa in the sitting room of Ivy Cottage. She'd insisted on coming to the country for the weekend, but had regretted it almost as soon as they'd got in the car. Edward had never entirely overcome his anxiety about driving through Central London, but she was no longer able to get behind the wheel, much to her considerable irritation. Her grumpy backseat driving did nothing to calm Edward's nerves, which just fed Bella's ire, leading to a tense and predominantly silent journey to Chipping Mallard. It didn't help that she was also cross with herself, because she knew it had been a foolhardy decision to make the journey when she could go into labour at any time.

A further source of annoyance was that after an unseasonably cold, wet and dreary summer, September and October had seen a large swath of the country gripped in a truly glorious Indian summer. Glorious, at least, to the rest of the populace—to Bella, it was her idea of hell. The last two months of her pregnancy had found her growing ever more uncomfortable and bad-tempered and, now, at a week overdue, she seemed be caught up in an endless cycle of irritation, fury, self-pity and contrition, which had Edward's head spinning.

If he hadn't been totally secure in their love for one another, he might believe that Bella had actually gone off him. As it was, he realised that her hormones were at the heart of her uncharacteristic bad moods, and learned fairly quickly to simply keep out of her way unless she specifically demanded his attention

Right now was one such occasion, and Edward practically ran from the kitchen to the sitting room when Bella shouted his name.

He found her trying, ineffectually, to lever herself off the couch, a deep frown etched across her brow.

"Don't just stand there like an idiot, help me up!" she snapped.

He moved towards her, careful to keep his face blank.

"Of course, sorry. Did you want to go into the garden?" he asked evenly.

"Christ, no, it's too bloody hot out there, I just want to move around a bit."

Before he could stop himself, his eyes flitted to Bella's feet. He was quick to bring them back to her face, but it was too late.

"Oh, God, don't look at my elephant ankles. Jesus, I'm so fucking fat and ugly! I don't know why you're even still with me…"

Her voice trailed off as her tears began to spill, just as he pulled her awkwardly to her feet. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but her stomach was just too big—a situation which made her sob loudly and push him away.

"Ugh, get off me, it's too hot!"

He stood back and watched as she walked slowly towards the door, both hands pressed into the small of her back. She left the room, and he followed her into the kitchen, where she headed for the sink and turned the cold tap on. Running her wrists under the cool water, she then patted her cheeks and chest with her wet hands. As she did, she felt Edward's hands on her hips and felt his warm breath on her exposed neck.

"Let's get one thing straight, Mrs Masen. You'll never be anything but stunningly beautiful to me, even when we're both old and grey. The fact that you're carrying my child inside you makes you even more gorgeous, and the single sexiest woman on the planet. I love you—more today than ever… even if you _are_ a tad cranky right now."

He planted a soft, feather-light kiss on her shoulder, next to the straps of her camisole and bra. He hoped that he could seduce her out of her current grouchiness, but she pulled away from him. She went to the cupboard, grabbed a glass and filled it from the chilled water dispenser on the front of the fridge. Drinking deeply, she then headed over to the table and sat down next to the open window. He watched her for a moment before pulling out the chair on the opposite side and sitting down, wincing as she sighed in irritation.

"This is crap, Edward—I can't wait another week to be induced. I've heard that eating a really hot curry can spark labour, but I just can't bear the thought of spicy food in this weather."

She looked up at him, a look of determination in her eyes.

"I know, love, I'm sorry—if there was something I could do, you know I'd do it," he said, frowning at his own perceived impotence in the face of Bella's exasperation.

"Actually, there _is _something you can do."

Placing her hands flat on the table, she pushed herself awkwardly to her feet, as Edward gazed up at her in confusion.

"Come on, you're going to fuck this baby out of me right now!" she told him with resolve.

"Wh-what?" he exclaimed, frozen in place as Bella walked towards the door.

Stopping, she turned and put her hands on her hips.

"I'm going into the front room and I want you to come in there and fuck me hard and fast—and if that doesn't get this baby moving, then I… I… argghh, just do it, Edward!"

She turned and walked out as quickly as her condition would allow, leaving Edward staring after her, caught between feeling appalled and aroused. It wasn't that he didn't want to make love to Bella—or, as she so forthrightly put it, fuck her hard—it had been weeks since they'd been intimate and he really missed that part of their relationship. But what she wanted now just didn't seem right… and yet he couldn't deny that he wanted it, too.

"_Edward!"_

He sighed, and got to his feet. He must go to her—apart from anything else, the last thing he wanted was for her to think he didn't desire her.

He left the kitchen and pushed open the door of the sitting room, mentally preparing himself to do as Bella asked. He hoped to hell it _did_ work, because he wasn't sure how she'd react if it didn't. Probably cut his dick off so he could never impregnate her again!

"Edward! Oh, my God, I think my waters just broke!"

Bella was standing in the middle of the room, wide-eyed, a look of panic on her face.

He stared at her in disbelief, unable, for a moment, to comprehend what she was saying. Then his eyes followed hers down to her feet, suddenly going as wide as Bella's when he observed the large, wet stain on the rug.

"Holy fuck, Bella…"

"Edward… I'm… I'm scared!" she whispered.

At last, Edward was broken out of his stupor, quickly walking over to where Bella stood and wrapping her, somewhat awkwardly, in his arms.

"It's going to be okay, baby, I'll take care of you. Let's get your bag and head to the hospital." He pulled back to look down at her, frowning at the fear he could still see in her face.

"Hey, come on, love, don't be scared, you'll be fine," he told her, cupping her face and rubbing his thumb soothingly across her cheek.

Bella pursed her lips and scowled up at him.

"That's easy for you to say—you're not the one who's going to have to squeeze a ten-pound human being out of your vagina," she grumbled.

Edward arched an eyebrow, trying hard not to laugh, but as his lips twitched, he could see Bella following suit, and the next thing he knew, they were both laughing. However, their laughter was brought to an abrupt halt when Bella suddenly gasped and bent forward, clutching the front of Edward's t-shirt.

"Shit, shit, shit, that fucking _hurts_!"

"Okay, okay, let's get you in the car. Where's your bag?"

**~o0o~  
**

"One more big push now, Bella."

The midwife looked up, smiling encouragingly, but Bella had the strong urge to kick the woman in the head.

_You fucking push, bitch!_

Seated behind her on the large birthing bean bag, Edward winced, but said nothing, as she squeezed his hand with a strength he had heretofore never suspected she possessed. His silence was apposite, as he was aware that anything he said at this point, no matter how innocuous, was likely to be met with further vitriol from his wife, the like of which might send a weaker and less devoted man running out the door. He could only pray that what he'd read about women forgetting the pain of childbirth was indeed true, otherwise it seemed quite possible he'd never be allowed back in Bella's bed, let alone her body.

Instead of verbal encouragement, he leaned forward to help her stay in an upright position, rubbing her back gently with his other hand.

"Come on, you can do it, Bella, you're almost there. Now… _push!_" the midwife urged.

"Arrrrgggghhhhhh…" Bella did as she was asked with what felt like the last of her strength, and suddenly she felt it—like something popping—and she just knew…

"That's it! Well done!"

Suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of a baby's loud, angry wail, and Bella was falling back against Edward.

"You did it, babe! Oh, God, I love you… I love you so much." Edward kissed her neck, pushing tendrils of damp hair from her shoulder.

Tiredly, Bella reached up to lightly touch Edward's cheek. "I love you too, Edward," she whispered, exhausted.

And then the midwife was holding out a tiny bundle for Bella to take, causing a loud sob to escape her as she held her baby in her arms for the first time.

"It's a boy," the woman announced, a smile in her voice.

They had both agreed early on that they didn't want to know the gender of their child before it was born, but Bella could now admit to herself that, despite Edward's conviction that it was a girl, she'd hoped for a boy—a beautiful, miniature version of her beloved husband.

Wrapping his arms around his wife and son, Edward felt no embarrassment as tears ran down his face.

So many amazing things had happened to him since that fateful night he'd met Bella. He almost felt as if he'd spent the first nineteen years of his life being tested by some higher power. If that were the case, he'd surely proved himself worthy because, for all that he'd lost, he'd been given back a hundredfold. He'd long since stopped expecting something to happen to take it all away again—merely embracing every wonderful day as it came. He had a woman beyond measure, and now he had a beautiful, precious son—a family of his very own.

The love he felt as he looked down at the tiny, perfect child in his beautiful wife's arms filled his heart to bursting point. He would give this boy everything he'd never had—no child would be loved more.

He smiled to himself, inwardly wondering how his mother would have reacted to being a grandmother at thirty-eight.

That thought, however, was gone in a flash, as the midwife indicated that he needed to get up from behind Bella and take charge of his son.

"Your wife's got a little more work to do, and then we'll help her clean up so that you can have some time alone together before your visitors start arriving."

**~o0o~**

Much later, after Alice and Esme had left, Edward sat on the side of Bella's bed in the small private room she'd been moved to. Now dressed in her own nightdress, he watched her slide the silky material away from her breast, guiding her nipple into their baby's rosebud mouth. He latched on without hesitation, immediately starting to suckle greedily.

Bella winced a little. "Hmm, like father, like son," she said, glancing up at Edward as he gazed down at the wondrous sight of his wife feeding his child.

He grinned at her and slipped his arm around her shoulder, as he kissed her upturned lips. Pulling apart, they both gazed in wonder as their son guzzled enthusiastically, one fist waving furiously in the air. Fascinated, Edward held out one long finger, which was immediately grasped tightly by five tiny digits. He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Bella's own for a moment, before he looked back to where the baby seemed to be regarding him intently, his grip surprisingly strong.

"Hello, Charlie Marcus Masen. I'm your dad, and this gorgeous woman is your mum. Welcome to the world, little man. We love you so much, and I can't wait to teach you how to make cupcakes."

Edward and Bella smiled at their little boy, and then at one another. They shared another soft kiss, before leaning their heads together and gazing down at the product of their love, held securely in his mother's arms. They both knew that the life which stretched out ahead of them would be filled with ups and downs, but they were both pretty sure the good times would far outweigh the bad.

On their own, they'd both learned how to be strong and self-sufficient, but together they would be indomitable. They were a family now, and life would never be the same… it would be so much better.

**The End**

* * *

**And that's all she wrote, my friends. Pictures of the wedding venue, Edward's suit and Bella's dress are on my website and Facebook - links on my profile. Sadly, no pictures exist of Edward posing in his half undone chef's coat. *pouts***

**I'm kind of sad to press the 'complete' button on this fic, but my sadness is tempered by the depth of the love everyone seems to have for this story and the characters within. In a blatant exploitation of that love, m****ay I beg your indulgence for a minute or two, whilst I say a few short thankyous. **

**Massive thanks to my wonderful beta, MauiGirl60, who has been such a godsend to me. Her patience, support and friendship means the world to me. I should make it clear that any mistakes you have found in this story have all been mine, never hers. S****imilarly, I have been hugely fortunate to have found a friend in the lovely Cared; she created my main story banner, and has religiously, week on week, posted teasers for WRC all over the internet, ensuring that it reaches the widest possible audience. ****I seldom mention Midnight Cougar, but again, I must take the opportunity here to thank her for originally suggesting a Facebook group for my fics, setting it up, and continuing to police it and keep away the spammers. It has been a huge success, and I'm so grateful for her help.**

**My final thanks must, of course, go to YOU, my incredible readers, who embraced this Edward and Bella in such a way that I generally spent my Saturdays and Sundays either sniffling like an eejit or grinning from ear to ear whilst reading your lovely comments. I am thrilled that you have taken this story to your hearts so profoundly - because of you, it has twice won the TLS Fic of the Week poll. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You humble me with your kindness, in the face of my rubbish efforts at responding to reviews. As with Wild Child, therefore, I PROMISE TO RESPOND to everyone who reviews the epilogue of WRC, in hopes that it will go some way towards making up for my woeful failures of the past.**

**I can definitely say there won't be a sequel to WRC, although it is possible that I may do a short outtake at some point in the future. We shall see. In the meantime, look out for a new story from me in the coming months - click on Follow Author if you want to read it when it starts posting. Until then, na shledanou, farvel, adieu, auf wiedersehen, andi'o sas, arrivederci, sayonara, do widzenia, do svidaniya, adios, hejda and goodbye.**


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